Almost Lost
by justdreaming-83
Summary: An attempt is made on Callen's life. Story focuses on the team's determination to care for him while solving the case. My 1st fic. Actually, 1st time to write for anyone else to read. So I'm a little nervous. Please Review. Changing rating to T to be safe
1. Chapter 1

_Don't own any of the characters so I'll have to keep my day job. Just having some fun writing down what is in my head. Like mentioned in my review, this is my first attempt to write a story since I was in elementary school. Reviews are welcomed in this learning process._

_Rated T for safety since the story falls into the Hurt/Comfort category._

_November 23, 2011 – Over the next few weeks, I plan on going back through each chapter, correcting typos and changing some of the sentences a little. Still learning so this was important for me to do before looking into the possibility of starting something new. The story itself remains the same, however._

CHAPTER 1 – _Sam's __Premonition_

Sam yawned as he navigated the _Challenger_ through the back streets into Callen's neighborhood, careful to travel a different route than the last time he picked his partner up for work. He had hoped it would be an uneventful Tuesday since they had worked a particularly hard case yesterday and did not get back to the Operations Center for Callen to file his report until well after dark. Sam was accustomed to the physical demands of his job as an NCIS agent but yesterday felt like several cases rolled into one. He and Callen had spent the entire day assisting Homeland Security with a case that ended with chasing the suspects on foot for several miles. When they caught up to them, the bad guys weren't especially cooperative. Sam was paying for it today and guessed his partner had fared even worse. Somehow Callen had gotten paired with the suspect that was at least Sam's size and almost as strong. Callen is no weakling by any means but his small size was no match for the gigantic form he was responsible for subduing.

They had planned to slip into work a little late today; so much for plans. Each team member had been summoned via phone at 7:00 this morning. Eric alerted them that a new case awaited and that their services were needed ASAP. Kensi was picking up Deeks and Sam guessed they were already on their way to the office by now. The younger agents had been in a training class yesterday and had managed to miss being involved in the marathon Homeland Security case and the foot pursuit, with the jabs, and tackles, and punches that went along with it.

Sam knocked on Callen's door and did not get an answer. Callen was not known to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, and even then, not soundly. But he was beyond exhausted when Sam dropped him off last night. Sam knocked again. Still no answer. He hoped that Callen had not fallen back to sleep after the wake-up call from Eric. His partner had a tendency to come up swinging at whoever had the misfortune of waking him up and, this morning, Sam was in no mood to be used as a human punching bag. He let himself in the front door using the hidden key and called out, "G?" When he did not get a response, he took a few more steps into the living area, halfway expecting Callen to jump out of nowhere with his gun drawn. Sam could now hear the water running in the shower. Why was he not ready? Sam yelled even louder, "G!"

"Yeah," Callen called back.

"Come on, G! Time to go!"

"Give me a minute."

Sam sat down on the chair in the living room, the only real piece of furniture in the entire house. Callen had lived in so many foster homes growing up and never really had anything of his own. But it still seemed strange to Sam that a person could be content with so few possessions. He scanned the almost empty shell that served as living quarters for his partner and thought about how often he had seen this same emptiness in Callen's eyes. G. Callen hated being pitied so Sam never really pushed the issue and knew better than to ask too many questions. But every so often, Callen would be right there on the edge of opening up, revealing a little part of his past. Then he would pull back, usually changing the subject or making a joke and even sometimes becoming angry with himself for allowing those memories to seep up so close to the surface. He was an expert at quickly shoving memories and emotions back into that secret compartment.

As Sam sat waiting, lost in thought, a bad feeling crept in; a sinking feeling like something was not quite right. This didn't happen that often but almost always preceded something unpleasant. Just then Sam heard the water shut off in the shower. His eerie feeling began to subside and was now being replaced with irritation with his partner for making them late again. Several minutes passed before Callen entered the room, dressed, but moving a little slowly and not fully awake.

"What took you so long?" Sam barked, rising from his chair.

"I had to do my hair."

Sam shook his head and chuckled, all irritation at his partner now gone. Callen pushed up the sleeves of his blue, long sleeved t-shirt and then put his wallet, keys and cell phone into the pockets of his jeans. After he slid his SIG into his holster the two agents headed out to the car.

The first few minutes of the ride were silent as neither man really felt like talking. Then Sam glanced over and saw the bruise that had developed overnight under Callen's left eye. When a smile broke out on Sam's face, Callen looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Nothing. Just trying to figure out why you chose to go after the _Hulk_ instead of the little guy yesterday."

"It happened too fast. I didn't really have time to weigh and measure the suspects first." Sam chuckled at Callen's defensiveness. "And besides, I managed to take him down without your help, didn't I?"

Sam snorted and shook his head. "Sure. But not without being on the receiving end of a couple of kidney punches." Callen gave Sam a sideways glare.

A few minutes had passed when Callen interrupted the silence. "I'm hungry. Can we stop…"

"We're not stopping."

"But we didn't get to eat all day yesterday and I'm starving," Callen whined.

"We're already running late as it is, thanks to you."

Callen folded his arms, frowned and stared straight ahead.

Sam had to fight back a smile. "Suck it up, G."

Sam was running on empty so he knew Callen must have been especially hungry. Sam had warmed up some leftovers when he got home last night. But since Callen never kept anything to eat in his house, Sam knew he had not eaten since breakfast the day before. Ordinarily Sam would have protested and then given into his partner's pouting, stopping at a pastry shop to pacify him. But today, there just wasn't time.

Callen's cell phone buzzed. He read the text and relayed the message out loud to Sam. "Eric says that Deeks and Kensi are already headed to the Old McFerrin plant on Butler… Sending address to your GPS…Kensi will fill us in when we get there."

Suddenly Callen's hand went to his waist, just to the right of his belt buckle. He looked up at Sam with an '_uh __oh' _look. "My badge is in my locker." Sam knew that Callen did not like to wear his badge when he got off work. It was just another safeguard to protect his cover if he ran into some kind of trouble.

"It's all good. I have mine and Kensi will have hers."

Sam changed his course and, as he drove toward the meeting site, he began to have that same uneasy feeling again, like something bad was going to happen. He tried to brush it off as fatigue but it just kept gnawing at him. Callen sensed the change in Sam's mood and his eyes narrowed as he studied his partner. "You OK?" Callen asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just tired." But Sam could not shake it. Something just didn't feel right.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews. It was so exciting to get responses so soon. I will do my best to update regularly since I know there is some interest in my story. _

CHAPTER 2 - _The __Fall_

Kensi and Deeks were standing beside their car when Sam pulled into the parking lot. Sam and Callen stepped out of the _Challenger, _groaning in unison. "Not in front of the kids," Sam whispered, peering at Callen over the top of the car and tilting his head toward the younger agents. "They'll have something cute to say about us being old and then I'll have to kill 'em." Callen smiled at how grumpy Sam was when he was tired and then nodded in agreement.

Kensi immediately noticed the bruise on Callen's face. "You boys have a little trouble without our assistance yesterday?" she asked playfully while reaching up to touch Callen's face. Callen stepped back and turned his head, avoiding contact with Kensi's fingers.

Sam huffed. "Some of us had to actually work yesterday while you two were off at nursery school."

"So Kenz, what do we have?" Callen asked, eager to change the subject before Sam had a chance to bring up the beating he had taken from the _Hulk_ yesterday.

"A body was discovered here sometime after midnight. LAPD identified him as…," Kensi paused to read the information that Nell had forwarded to her phone, "Retired Navy Lieutenant Kenneth Bland, a person of interest in an ongoing investigation involving arms dealing and ties to several organizations in New York and Florida."

"What's he doing in LA?" Callen asked, not expecting an answer.

Deeks shrugged his shoulders. "Good question. All we know so far is that LAPD found maps and itineraries and all kinds of stuff out here and decided to turn the case over to NCIS. They left an officer to secure the scene until we could get here."

"Well then let's not keep him waiting," Callen said. Kensi reached in her car and removed a satchel and a camera and the four agents walked through the entrance. The plant had been abandoned for years. In fact, the entire neighborhood was a ghost town. All of the office buildings across the road were even vacant. It made sense that someone would choose this place to hide out. Even if someone were to pass by the property, there were concrete walls and various pieces of machinery that would block their view.

The team approached the officer who was standing near a small metal building. Sam identified himself, displaying his badge. Kensi, accustomed to Callen performing the introductions, flashed a confused look at her senior agent. He lifted the hem of his t-shirt, revealing an empty spot where his badge should have been.

The officer introduced himself and then addressed Sam. "Most of the evidence is inside the shop but we also found papers scattered out here on the ground when we arrived. Nothing's been moved . . . well, except the body." Callen turned and scanned the scene. After a pause, the officer added, "Well, if you guys don't need me for anything else…"

"No. We got it. Thanks," Callen said. "Kensi and Deeks, take the area on the east side of the building. Sam and I will start here and work our way to you."

Kensi opened her bag and pulled out four pairs of black gloves. "I grabbed these on my way out." Sam and Callen thanked her and slipped their gloves on.

Now in two teams, the agents began the task of examining each piece of paper that littered the ground. Sam stepped up on a two foot high, concrete platform where he found a large clasp envelope. "G. You're gonna want to see this." There was tension in his voice.

Callen immediately climbed up on the platform and took the envelope from his partner. Sam moved several yards away, continuing his search. Callen's eyes widened as he thumbed through the contents of the envelope, a stack of surveillance photos taken of him. He just stood there, frozen in place, staring at the photos. His mind was racing. _When __were __these __taken? __Who __had __been __following __him __and __why? __How__ could this be happening again__?_

Just as Sam turned to face his stunned partner, a small red light appeared on Callen's chest. There was no time to warn him. Instinct took over. Sam yelled "G! Gun!" and dove toward his partner. The big agent slammed into him so hard that he heard the air being forced out of Callen's lungs. The impact sent Callen flying backward, off of the platform, landing on his back followed by Sam's full weight crashing down on top of him. The bullet had barely missed him, ricocheting off a piece of metal machinery.

Sam knew he had hurt his partner but assessing the damage would have to wait. He had to make sure everyone was safe. His first concern was getting Callen out of sight so he squatted down, rolled Callen over onto his right side, and shoved him up under the edge of the platform.

Sam moved back a couple of feet so that he was shielded by a metal wall. "Kensi!"

"I'm good. You or Callen hit?"

"No!" Sam yelled back. "Kensi, can you get to us? Behind this wall?"

"Yeah!" Kensi wondered why she was not hearing Callen's voice.

"Deeks?" Sam called out.

"Commin' to you, Sam!"

Deeks and Kensi ducked and ran, making their way to Sam, and then crouched down behind the wall next to him. Sam was already on his phone. "Eric. We need eyes. We're at the McFerrin plant. Someone just took a shot at us. It was long range. Came from one of the buildings across from us, the street parallel to Butler."

"On it, Sam. I'll call you back."

Sam could not move any closer to Callen without leaving the protection of the wall but he knew G. was in the safest place right now. He looked down at his partner who was still on his right side, his back facing his fellow agents. Concern filled Sam's eyes and he reached out as far as he could and rested his hand on Callen's lower leg. Deeks and Kensi now noticed their senior agent on the ground, curled up in a semi fetal position. Since his back was to them they could not tell if he was conscious. But they could hear him wheezing and they knew, at the very least, he was having difficulty breathing. Kensi's heart began to race. _What __was __wrong __with __Callen? __Why __was __he __not __moving?_


	3. Chapter 3

_I am humbled by the number of reviews and the favorite alerts. It really lights a fire for this "newbie" to try even harder. Thank you all. And thank you to Gabi2305 for your encouraging message._

CHAPTER 3_ - Assessing the Damage_

Kensi stared at Callen's crumpled body. "Sam, I thought you said you two weren't hurt."

"You asked if we were hit, Kenz."

Sam's phone buzzed. With one hand still placed on Callen's leg, he put his phone on speaker. "Yeah, Eric. What do ya see?"

"Nothing, Sam. There are no surveillance cameras. But I'm working on pulling up a live satellite view as we speak." Eric paused.

Sam's voice spiraled up with impatience. "Eric? … Can you see anything?"

"Uhh. Bringing it up … Well, whoever it was, they're not there anymore. That's the best I can do, Sam. And there's no footage to pull up. You guys are in a blind spot. Nell is looking at footage from the nearest traffic cams for anything suspicious. I'll get back with you."

Realizing that the gunman was probably long gone, Sam now turned his full attention to his partner. Callen had not moved since Sam had pushed him onto his side. Sam moved over behind Callen and placed his hand on his back. He could feel the movement of Callen's ragged breathing. "G., you with me?" Callen nodded. "Where are you hurt?"

Callen responded with a soft, raspy voice. "Don't know." He was finally able to get some air but pain shot through his right side with each breath he took.

Sam looked at Deeks and motioned, with a tilt of his head, for him to come closer. As they prepared to roll Callen over, Sam was panicking on the inside. He was sure he had injured his partner. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves. "G., we're going to roll you over onto your back now."

Sam gave Deeks a quick, single nod, as if initiated a well-planned military maneuver and they began the process of turning Callen over. Callen suddenly winced and his eyes shut tightly. "Crap," he whispered forcefully, twisting himself back over onto his right side. With his left hand, he reached to his lower back and began tugging at the fabric of his shirt, trying to grasp something.

Then it dawned on Sam. "His weapon."

"What?" Deeks asked.

"We rolled him over on his SIG." Sam pushed Callen's hand aside, lifted up the back of his shirt, and there was his weapon, still in his holster. "Sorry, G." Sam slid the gun out and handed it to Kensi. "Ready to try this again?"

"Not especially," Callen whispered, through gritted teeth. Sam, once again, gave Deeks the nod and they rolled Callen onto his back. Callen blinked slowly, trying to focus. His brow was tensed. They could now see a small cut on the bridge of his nose and a scrape on his right cheekbone. His bottom lip was split and bleeding. The rise and fall of Callen's chest was shallow and choppy; he was still struggling to breathe.

"How do you feel?" Kensi asked while removing the black gloves from his hands.

Callen blinked a few times and then peered up at her. "Like I was hit by a _Mac_ truck." Callen's voice was too weak but Kensi felt a bit of relief that he was able to talk and was trying to joke with them.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "There you go again, G. I save your life and you complain."

Callen squinted up at his partner. "Well, Sam, you did sort of … just plow into me … with no warning."

"Yeah I saw," Kensi said. "It was sort of like last year at the mall; when Sam shoved you into the fountain with the koi."

"Yeah. Only no water this time. Just concrete."

"Fine," Sam grumbled. "Next time I'll just let them shoot your ungrateful…"

Callen suddenly grimaced as another pain shot through his ribs. He held his breath and tried to force the pained expression away. Sam scanned Callen's body and his tone became more serious. "G., you need to get checked out at the hospital."

Callen's voice was strained and airy. "I'm fine, Sam. … Just got the wind knocked out of me."

"I know how hard I landed on you, partner. You can't be fine."

"I'll be OK. No hospitals. And don't tell Hetty I fell. She'll take me off the case."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "She's going to take you off anyway. Someone's been following you, G. This is big. You can't keep this from her."

"Don't tell her. Not yet." His breaths became faster and more labored. "Please, Sam," he pleaded.

Sam could see that Callen was switching over to panic mode and his body wasn't in any condition to be stressed right now. Sam sighed and shook his head in surrender. "OK. But when she finds out, she's gonna string you up."

"She's not going to find out," Callen replied while trying to calm his breathing.

"Oh, she'll find out. Hetty always finds out." Sam attempted to lighten the mood and chase away the panic that was making it so hard for his partner to breathe. "I think she has secretly implanted tracking devises in all of us."

Deeks stood up and opened his mouth wide as if experiencing an "ah ha" moment. "So that's how she does it."

Sam held out his hand and Callen grasped it, pulling himself to a sitting position. He was not prepared for the stabbing pain in his right side. He closed his eyes tight and clenched his jaw just in time to hold back a scream. Sam was studying Callen as Deeks continued. "Hetty's always watching us. Like Ursula in '_The Little Mermaid_.'"

Kensi's jaw dropped. "Seriously, Deeks? '_The Little Mermaid'_?"

"What?" Deeks asked, trying to sound innocent. "I stayed with my little cousin one summer and she must have watched it like a bazillion times."

"When was that, Deeks? This past summer?"

"Oh, now that's just wrong, Kenz."

"And besides, Ursula is huge. Hetty is tiny."

"Oh, I forgot. It was at your place I watched it."

"Very funny," Kensi said, putting on a fake smile.

Callen was secretly thankful for the little Kensi/Deeks digression. It served as a diversion while he fought to regain his composure. He tried to open his eyes but could only squint. The sunlight was more intense now that his body was not being overshadowed by Sam and Deeks. It was too bright. His head began to pound and for a moment he thought he might throw up. The diversion had not lasted long enough. He had managed to erase most of the pain from his expression but his posture and his labored breathing were giving him away.

Deeks looked down at Callen. "Man, you gonna to be OK?"

Callen shot Deeks an annoyed look. "I'm fine."

Sam huffed. "You are one of the most stubborn people I have ever met." Sam stood up and reached both hands down to Callen, offering to help him get to his feet.

Callen hesitated, thinking of how much it was going to hurt his side to raise his arms and then to have Sam pull on him. He glanced up at his partner. "I can do this."

Sam shook his head. "No. Change my last statement. The most stubborn…"

"OK." Callen reluctantly reached up with both arms and Sam pulled him to his feet. Just as he had anticipated, pain ripped through his side. The sudden pain caused him to grimace and a soft groan escaped. He realized that he could not support himself on his right leg and had to shift all his weight to the left. Then Callen began to flag. It was like a dark veil was being pulled down over him and his ears were now ringing. He felt two large hands firmly grasp his upper arms, catching him just as he swayed. Callen steadied himself again and then blinked a few times to clear his vision.

When he was finally able to focus, all three agents were staring back at him. Seeing the concern in their faces, he tried to reassure them. "I'm good." But they were not buying it. Callen's breathing was still too fast and he was obviously in more pain than he was letting on.

Sam, still holding tightly to Callen's arm, leaned in and took a closer look at his eyes. "Did you hit your head?"

"Sam, I'm OK. Really."

"That's not what I asked you. Did you hit your head when you fell?"

Callen hesitated. "Maybe?"

Sam was now becoming irritated. "Knock off on the tough guy act and just answer the question, G."

Callen's eyes narrowed. He lowered his head. "It's all just a blur. I really don't remember."

"Then you probably did." Sam glanced over at the younger agents and they could see he was worried. Something was definitely not right with Callen.

Sam's phone buzzed. He slipped it out of his pocket with one hand while maintaining a firm grasp of Callen's arm with the other. "Eric? Talk to me."

"We've gone through the footage. Nothing jumps out at us. But we have captured photos of each vehicle near the area several hours before and just after the shooting."

"That's at least a start." Sam paused. "Eric, do you think someone picked this spot because they knew there were no cameras?"

"Could be. But they'd have to have access to some pretty high tech information. Oh, and … ah,…Hetty wants to speak with Callen when we're done. So …uh … are we done?"

Sam's eyes fixed on Callen's. "Yeah, Eric. We're done," he said, putting emphasis on the last two words. Sam held the phone out toward Callen. "Hetty wants to talk to you."

Callen looked down at the phone and then back up at Sam. His lips parted and his eyes widened. Deeks and Kensi looked at each other with mouths open and then whispered in unison, "She knows."

Callen looked back down at the phone as if it were covered with some deadly bacteria and then reluctantly took it. Sam noticed a tremor in Callen's hand as he reached for the phone. He was not sure if it was a result of the fall or from knowing a "Hetty interrogation" might be on the horizon. Callen cleared his throat. "Hetty?" He tried to sound casual but, even over the phone, his Operations Manager could detect something was off.

"Mr. Callen. Is everything alright?"

Callen looked up at Sam before responding and Sam gave him a reassuring nod. "Other than the fact someone mistook our crime scene … for a firing range a while ago, everything's fine."

"Is your phone in working order?"

"Yes. My phone is working fine." Just then, remembering that his phone was in his back pocket when he fell, he decided to amend his statement. "Or at least it was last I checked."

"I was just curious as to why your partner had been placed in charge of communications on this case."

Callen looked around as if grasping for something to say. "Well, I've been a little busy." He shrugged his shoulders. Hetty was notorious for extracting information from people and Callen knew that if he did not get off the phone soon, he was going to dig a hole he couldn't get out of. "Hetty, I really need to get back to work."

Hetty paused. She heard a tremor in her senior agent's voice and he seemed to be out of breath. She did not like the way he was trying to brush her aside. But this was not the time. It would just have to wait until they were face to face. "You just sound a tad unsettled."

"Everything is fine," Callen replied. "My phone is fine…I think. I'm fine. We're all fine."

"Keep me informed, Agent Callen."

Sam rolled his eyes as his partner handed him back his phone. "What?" Callen asked.

Sam shook his head. "You were trying too hard. 'We're all fine?' 'My phone is fine?'"

"She asked about my phone, OK? I thought I sounded … convincing enough." Callen turned to Kensi and Deeks for their support and they both just turned in avoidance.

"Convincing?" Sam snorted. "That wouldn't have fooled a six year old."

Callen scowled and looked down at his arm that Sam had been firmly grasping all this time. "You can let go now."

Sam had not realized he still had a death grip on Callen's arm. "Fine. Letting go. Next time I'll just let your little butt hit the concrete." Kensi bit her lip to avoid laughing out loud. She had been around Sam and Callen enough to know that their bantering was not always just for fun. Sometimes it was used to help process feelings or to even avoid discussing feelings. But today, she felt sure that their bickering was a mechanism for calming their nerves, giving the team an opportunity to regroup.

_More hurt and comfort to come._


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you for reading and for the reviews. You guys are great!_

CHAPTER 4 - _Hetty's Suspicions_

Kensi handed Callen's SIG to Sam and then she and Deeks began the task of uploading photos of the crime scene to Eric, dusting for prints, and bagging the evidence. Sam walked Callen to the car, Callen insisting he was fine the whole way and protesting each time Sam tried to assist. But the team knew he was not fine. His steps were slow and guarded, favoring his right side. It was obvious that he was in pain. But even more unsettling was that he was off his game.

The drive to the Operations Center was silent. The events of the morning kept swirling around in Sam's head. He didn't know what to make of it. This was obviously a setup. Someone had planted those pictures there and then laid in wait until Callen stood in that exact spot so they could get a clear shot at him. But why? Sam remembered that sinking feeling he had earlier this morning. Now that the adrenaline had subsided, that feeling was back, only a thousand times more intense.

Sam looked over at his partner who was leaned back in the passenger's seat with his eyes closed. Callen's breathing was still too quick but more even now. Just then, Callen's right hand twitched. A few moments later his whole body flinched and Sam realized that Callen was not just resting his eyes; he was out.

Sam pulled into the drive behind the OSP building and killed the engine. "G." No response. "Callen" Still no movement. "G.," Sam said more forcefully and Callen's eyes opened. He looked around groggily, as if trying to figure out where he was.

Sam got out of the _Challenger_ and watched through his open door as Callen fumbled with the seatbelt latch. Then Callen slowly pulled himself out of the car, hissing and groaning a few times in the process. When he closed his door he realized Sam was standing, watching him. "G., if you intend to keep this from Hetty, you're going to have to do better than that." Callen glared at him before hobbling into the building.

The pair stopped at their lockers where they secured their weapons. When they turned around, there stood Hetty. She just had a way of sneaking up on people. "Agent Callen, Agent Hanna, where is the rest of your team?"

Not wanting her to hear the weariness in Callen's voice, Sam answered. "They're finishing up at the scene." Speaking for G., however, was a mistake. It just confirmed her suspicion that something was wrong.

Hetty stepped closer to Callen and he lowered his head, obviously uncomfortable as she eyed him up and down. "Mr. Hanna, is your partner ailing?" Hetty moved even closer and Callen tensed.

"I don't think he's sick, Hetty." He thought that was a safe answer since it wasn't exactly a lie.

Hetty reached up and grasped the front of Callen's shirt, pulling him down so that they were face to face. The movement caused an intense pain in his side and his breath hitched. Callen was still avoiding eye contact with Hetty when she asked, "What is that, Mr. Callen?"

"What is what?"

"On your face?" she said, carefully studying each injury to his face.

Callen rubbed the side of his face with his palm. "You think I need to shave?"

Hetty furrowed her brow. "I'm not amused, Mr. Callen." His eyes darted up to meet Hetty's and then quickly back down. In that instant, she saw through the façade. Her senior agent was in trouble.

"Hetty," Eric called from the rail outside the ops room. "You have a call."

Hetty let go of Callen's shirt, allowing him to stand up straight. "I am not finished with you," she stated firmly before attending to her phone call. Callen looked over at Sam and then back down at the floor before letting out a breath through his nose.

Sam and Callen sat down at their desks in the bullpen. Sam was growing even more impatient with each minute that passed. There had been no updates from Eric. He knew his partner would not be safe until they sorted this out. He hoped the evidence being collected at the crime scene would provide some answers.

Callen sat leaned back in his office chair, drifting in and out. He still could not take in a deep breath without bringing on that piercing pain in his ribs. The pain in his right hip and lower back was made worse by sitting but he did not have the strength to stand right now. Callen had his laptop open and hoped that anyone watching would think he was alert and working.

A while later, Kensi and Deeks returned from the McFerrin plant. Kensi walked into the bullpen carrying her evidence bag in one hand and the clasp envelope that contained the surveillance pictures of Callen in the other. "No fingerprints on these," she mumbled, inconspicuously handing the envelope to Callen. He lifted up the edge of his laptop, slid the envelope underneath, and thanked Kensi with a small nod.

Kensi, Deeks, and Sam spread the remaining documents out on the desks and sifted through the evidence they had gathered. Callen began to feel lightheaded and clammy. He limped to the locker room where he washed his face with cold water. He then brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth, trying to get rid of the metallic taste that lingered from his bloody lip.

Meanwhile, Hetty appeared in the bullpen. "Oh good. Miss Blye, Mr. Deeks, you're back. Find anything promising?"

"Not yet," Kensi reported.

"We just don't have enough information to make all this fit together," Sam added without looking up from the document in front of him.

"Keep looking." Hetty turned to see Callen's chair empty. Even Sam had not noticed his partner had left the room. "Where's Agent Callen?" All eyes went to Callen's unoccupied desk.

About that time, Callen was on his way back from the locker room, putting forth his best effort to walk without limping. He saw Hetty standing beside his desk and stopped in his tracks.

"Mr. Callen, are you injured?" she asked, peering over the top of her glasses.

Knowing that Hetty's all-seeing eye had already caught him giving to his painful hip, he replied, "Think I pulled a muscle or something."

"Based on your facial wounds and your irregular gait, am I to assume then, that you weren't fine when we spoke by phone earlier today?" Callen looked down to avoid her stare but he could feel her eyes burning holes into the top of his head. He thought he had waited long enough before looking back up, but there she was; the little "queen of detection" still had her eyes fixed on him. Callen swallowed hard and then licked his lips nervously. When Hetty realized Callen wasn't going to come clean just yet, she turned her attention to the three agents that were seated at their desks, and briefly glared at each of them. Kensi bit down on her bottom lip and squirmed in her chair when Hetty's eyes met hers. Deeks began drumming the eraser end of his pencil on his desk. Sam looked down, crossed his arms and rocked back in his chair. Without saying a word, she had sent a clear message; she knew this little foursome was holding something back. Hetty floated back to her office and, as if they had been holding their breath, all four agents let out a sigh. Deeks and Kensi looked at each other, just as they had earlier in the day, and mouthed the words, "_She knows_."

As Callen was approaching his chair, he winced from another sudden stabbing pain in his ribs and his right hand darted up to his side. He blacked out for a moment and grabbed on to a desk with his free hand in order to catch himself. Sam shot out of his chair and was at his partner's side in an instant, helping him to his seat. When their senior agent did not protest Sam's assistance, they knew things were getting worse. All color had washed from Callen's face and they could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"You're not gonna hurl, are you?" Deeks asked, to which Kensi responded by throwing a pen at him. "What? I'm just…"

"Shut up Deeks," Kensi said, sounding exasperated.

Callen's pain gradually subsided. He was now able to focus and some of the color had returned to his face. He looked up at Sam and nodded, indicating that he was alright. Sam's eyes were full of worry as he placed his hand on Callen's shoulder. "You're in bad shape, G. You should have let me take you to the hospital."

Callen's voice was weak and shaky. "Sam, I'm OK. We just need to focus on finding out why someone was shooting at us."

Sam's grip tightened on Callen's shoulder. Frustration was heard in his voice. "They weren't shooting at us, G. They were shooting at you. I saw the little red light. It was right there." Sam emphasized the last two words by poking the tip of his index finger into Callen's chest. "Seriously, man. This is not a good idea. You shouldn't even be here. Someone wants you dead, you're hurt, and you can't stay focused long enough to help with the case anyway."

Callen pressed his lips together in a tight line and turned his face away from Sam. After several seconds had passed, he let out a breath and said softly, "I just thought … if I could stay close, I would … see something familiar; something that would head us in the right direction. I can't do that … if Hetty sends me away." Callen's eyes had begun to roam and his breathing became more labored. It was apparent that as his breathing intensified, so did his pain level. "I just need to figure out … who in my past would be involved in … something like this." Sam, still gripping Callen's shoulder, felt his partner begin to tremble. "I've been going over and over it in my head … and none of this makes sense." Callen looked down and shook his head slowly, his expression, as well as his breathing, becoming more distressed. "I just don't know. … I'm sorry, Sam. … I'll try harder … to stay focused."

G. Callen was on the edge of losing control and this was so out of character. Sam now grasped both of Callen's shoulders and squeezed. "It's OK, G. You're not in this alone. We'll get to the bottom of this. Just relax, man." It took a couple of minutes for Callen to calm his breathing. Sam held on to Callen's shoulders until he felt the tension dissolve.

The team spent the next hour going through the evidence. Hetty sent someone for lunch so that they could continue working. Kensi had tried to get Callen to eat, but he just shook his head, never even touching his food. This especially concerned Sam because he knew that his partner had now gone for more than 24 hours without eating.

As the day progressed, Sam noticed that Callen was fighting harder to stay awake. He knew that Callen had started the day in a less than favorable condition; physically spent and not enough sleep. But Sam had seen his partner tired and beat up before and he always managed to hold it together until the mission was complete. Something was different this time. Sam was growing more concerned.

_May not be enough dialogue for some readers._

_My "hurt/comfort brain" spends a lot of time on feelings and responses._

_PLEASE REVIEW_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank __you __again __for __all __the __encouraging __reviews. __It's __been __a __real __motivator __to __get __the __next __chapter __edited __and __submitted__.__ The next few chapters are fairly short._

_Note to Gabi: Thank you for your input on this chapter._

CHAPTER 5 - _Hetty's __"Interrogation"_

It had been about four hours since Callen had been injured and he had become weaker with each hour that passed. Sam understood the motivation behind his partner wanting to stay involved in the case but he was not holding up very well. He needed medical attention. Sam knew that this was not going to happen unless Hetty intervened and mandated that he go to the hospital. G. Callen would never go willingly.

This thought had no more entered Sam's mind when Hetty, once again, appeared in the bullpen. She stood for a moment, frowning, hands clasped behind her back. She was obviously miffed, maybe even angry. "I just had an interesting conversion with the director. It seems that some information relating to our case has surfaced. Based on your reporting of this morning's events, I had presumed that the shot fired at the scene was intended to merely hinder our investigation." All eyes were fixed on Hetty as she continued. "Our friends with the CIA have now informed us that there is chatter indicating a possible plot to take out a member of NCIS." Hetty paused briefly, taking a deep breath. "Imagine my surprise to find out that the agent being targeted is one of our own."

Kensi and Deeks exchanged glances. Deeks was thinking to himself that he was about to witness a train wreck. Kensi felt like the blood had just drained from her body. This was not going to be good for Callen, or for any of them for that matter. Callen just stared at the floor in avoidance of Hetty's glare. Sam wished he could somehow come up with the right words to get his partner out of this mess. But there were no right words. Hetty had been kept in the dark too long and the interrogation was about to begin.

Hetty looked up at the ceiling and batted her eyes before continuing. "Your reporting of this morning's incident was sketchy to say the least. I got the strong impression that all of you were withholding information pertinent to the case." She walked over next to Callen, who was still averting his gaze from hers. "Mr. Callen, as the agent in charge, is there something you would like to share with me?"

Callen did not respond except to swallow thickly. "Mr. Callen, I will not hesitate to pull your badge, and the badges of everyone on this team, if I find out you are withholding information. You need to end this right now." Callen's eyes slowly rose to meet Hetty's. His lips parted and his eyes were full of fear. Surely she would not suspend the other team members for something he did; or would she? After a brief pause, Callen lifted up his laptop and slid the clasp envelope out. His hand was shaking as he reluctantly handed the envelope to Hetty. Then he lowered his head, waiting for the explosion.

Hetty gasped when she examined the contents of the envelope, realizing that someone had been watching her agent. "These were found at the scene?" Callen glanced up at her like a child who was in trouble. He did not have to say a word; the answer was written all over his face.

Hetty turned on her heels to face the others. "I will not be blindsided again. I demand to know what transpired this morning." No one responded. "Miss Blye. Let's start with you. I want to hear your account of what happened."

Kensi thought, _Why __me_, and then began to speak hesitantly. "Well, … we had split up into two teams … and we were searching through the evidence. Sam yelled "gun" and then he sort of tackled Callen. That's all I really saw. And then I heard the bullet hit something metal."

Hetty turned her attention to Sam. "Mr. Hanna, do you believe the CIA's information is credible? That your partner was the target?"

Sam lowered his head and nodded. "I think the pictures were planted to draw Callen out. He was looking at the photos when the shot was fired." Sam knew Hetty needed to know the truth; he would just deal with his partner's fury later. Callen glanced up at Sam for in instant. Sam was caught off guard. Where he expected to see frustration and anger, there was sadness and defeat.

Hetty continued her questioning. "Mr. Hanna, did you see the gunman?"

"No, I did not."

"Then how did you know to alert the others before the shot was fired?"

Sam let out a big breath. "I saw a red light on G.'s chest."

Hetty's blood ran cold. Her fear was confirmed. This was an attempt to assassinate her agent. "And this is when you tackled him, as Miss Blye put it?"

"Yes. I pushed him out of the line of fire."

"Is that how Agent Callen sustained his injuries?"

Sam nodded. "He got banged up a little during yesterday's assignment but nothing like what happened to him this morning."

"Do you, by any chance, know the extent of your partner's injuries?"

"No. But I know he's hurt. It was a hard fall and my full weight came crashing down on his skinny little body."

Callen appeared stunned as he looked up at Sam. Then he closed his lips, tightened his jaw and turned his head away. Sam thought to himself how typical this was of his partner. He had little reaction while they had just discussed an attempt made on his life. And now he was sulking because Sam had confirmed that he was injured. Sam knew how much Callen hated it when a fuss was made over him but, this time, he would just have to sit and sulk. Hetty needed to know.

Hetty turned and studied Callen who was still brooding. "Mr. Hanna. Did your partner sustain a head injury in the fall?"

"Not sure. But I think so."

With her gaze locked onto Callen's face, she cupped his chin in her tiny palm and turned his face toward hers. When he refused to look at her, she tilted his head back. He made only brief eye contact, but she could see that the luster was gone from his usually brilliant blue eyes; they were now dark and full of pain.

Hetty released Callen's jaw. He turned away but could still sense her glare and was certain that she was not finished with him. Hetty reined in her emotions and slowly let out a breath through pursed lips. "Agent Callen, what were you thinking? It is one thing to put your own life in danger. But you have endangered the lives of your fellow agents."

Callen swiveled his chair to the side and lowered his head. He sat there like a scolded child as Hetty continued. "Your actions are incomprehensible." Hetty paused and now her voice sounded more sad than irate. "I must inform you that, at this moment, your fate is being decided by those who hold much higher positions than I. This is now out of my hands, Mr. Callen."

Hetty turned to face the other agents. "For the rest of you, my superiors have left me with the task of deciding what actions to take concerning your conduct. I will deal with each of you later. Believe me when I say, there will be consequences for your part in this."

Callen lifted his head and turned to face Hetty. Panic filled his eyes and his breathing became more strained. "Hetty, … this is not their fault. … You can't punish them … for what I did."

"You cannot tell me that they had no part in this little cover-up."

Callen began having more difficulty breathing as he tried to convince Hetty not to discipline his fellow team members. "I knew you'd take me … off the case if you found out … about the photos. I made this decision as … their senior agent." Pain now filled Callen's face. "Hetty, I take full responsibility. … They just followed orders."

Hetty's voice was firm. "This is not up for debate, Agent Callen."

Callen's breathing became frantic. "Hetty, please," he pleaded, rising to his feet. But he stood up too quickly and winced from the sharp pain in his side. The room started spinning and then everything went black. The next thing he knew, someone was guiding him back down to his chair. Everyone watched with concern as Callen concentrated on slowing his breathing. He blinked slowly a few times to clear the fog and then whispered, "I'm OK."

"Yeah, we know you are," Sam mumbled sarcastically, releasing Callen's arms.

Without taking her eyes off of Callen, Hetty asked, "What is it, Mr. Beale?"

Everyone's eyes were drawn upward to the top of the stairs where Eric was standing. He had been watching long enough to know all was not well with the team and he responded cautiously. "The CIA just sent over some new information on our case."

Hetty sighed and then pointed her index finger straight up in the air. "Mr. Hanna, Miss Blye, Mr. Deeks, Ops." Now pointing toward the wardrobe area, she ordered, "Mr. Callen, sofa. I don't want to see your face anywhere near this investigation. As soon as we are up to date, I'll be down to check out your injuries."

Everyone cringed, picturing Hetty coming at Callen wearing her notorious examination gloves. Sam thought to himself that Callen would probably rather endure another tongue lashing than submit to Hetty's poking and prodding.

Hetty handed Kensi the envelope she had just confiscated from her senior agent. "Please see that Eric uploads these to our friends with the agency." Deeks and Kensi stood up and headed toward the stairs. Sam took a few steps and then tuned back to face his partner. Callen was just sitting, eyes still lowered. His lack of response prompted Hetty to bark, "Move it, Agent Callen!"

Never looking up, Callen slowly got to his feet and began making his way to the lounge area. He stumbled and had to catch himself on a table. Sam stood watching and Hetty could see the concern in his eyes. She placed her hand on Sam's arm and motioned with a sideways tilt of her head for him to go to Callen. "See that your partner gets to the sofa in once piece. And make sure he is lying down before you join us in Ops."

Callen managed to regain his balance. Expecting everyone to be on their way up to Ops, he startled when Sam approached him and grasped his arm. Sam could feel his partner trembling as he escorted him to the lounge.

Callen attempted to sit down next to the arm of the couch and was confused when Sam pulled him forward. "Not there," Sam explained, guiding him down to the middle section of the couch. "Hetty said you have to lay down." Sam picked up a small pillow and tossed it to the end of the couch and then eased his partner to a sitting position. Even the smallest of movements were painful and Callen could not help but moan as Sam lowered him back to lie down, and lifted his legs up onto the couch. Sam removed Callen's boots and placed them on the floor.

As Sam turned to leave, he heard a soft, weak voice call his name. He squatted down at Callen's side. "What is it, G?"

Callen licked his dry lips. "Tell them I'm sorry," he whispered. Sam nodded. Callen swallowed hard and licked his lips again. His voice was now barely audible. "I never meant to…"

"We know." Sam placed his hand on Callen's shoulder. "It's OK, G. You just need to rest right now." Callen turned his head away but Sam caught a glimpse of tears forming in his partner's eyes. Seeing Callen in this state was ripping him apart. But he knew he had to stay strong; Callen could not see how worried he really was. Sam patted Callen's shoulder before standing and then reluctantly left the room to join the others in Ops.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank __you __for __the __reviews __and __critiques!_

_This __chapter __is __a __little __shorter __and __deals __less __with __Callen __and __more __with __the __plot. __Not __as __much __fun __for __me __to __write __but __seemed __necessary __to __get __to __more __hurt __and __comfort. __Hope __you __enjoy._

CHAPTER 6 - _The __Calm_

Sam slowly made his way to Ops where the others were already standing in front of the screen, viewing the information that Nell and Eric had brought up. He took his place between Hetty and Kensi, leaned back on the desktop and crossed his arms.

"Did your partner put up a fuss about being banished to the sofa?" Hetty asked.

Sam was somber. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"That concerns you." It was more of a statement than a question; the concern was mutual. The Callen they knew would have protested being taken off the case and would have to have been dragged to the sofa kicking and screaming. But he had simply surrendered. Hetty patted Sam's arm. "Me too, Mr. Hanna. Me too."

It was difficult for Sam to attend to the case. He could not get that last image of Callen out of his head. He had become accustomed to seeing his partner battered and bruised; that was just part of the job. It was what he saw when he looked at Callen's eyes that haunted him. The "fight" was gone.

Sam knew he had to concentrate. An attempt had been made on G.'s life and they needed answers. Resorting to his SEAL training, he forced out all thoughts and emotions that were hindering his ability to focus.

Nell was in the process of explaining that the dead Lieutenant from this morning was suspected of being involved in a plan to trade defective weapons for those that were set for delivery to Pendleton. "The FBI has been brought in and NCIS has appointed a special task force to the case," Nell continued. "Even though we now have three Federal agencies involved, communication has been sketchy, to say the least. Because they are not sure how this sensitive material was leaked from Callen's file, there is a reluctance to share information."

"Please don't tell me that even our task force has cut off communication with our office," Hetty said, sounding annoyed.

"No. Not so far. But until they can determine where the breach of our secured data base occurred, this lack of cooperation between agencies may actually bring our investigation to a crawl."

Sam shook his head. "So in the meantime, we still have no idea how all this relates to G."

"Afraid not," Nell said apologetically.

"This is just unacceptable," Hetty huffed. "I need to go down and make some calls and see if I can't get this thing rolling." She peered up at the clock. "Miss Jones. Take a break and get some rest. Then relieve Mr. Beale so he can do the same. I foresee a long night ahead and I need the two of you to be on your toes."

Eric spun his chair to face Hetty. "I'll let you know as soon as anything pops up."

Sam left the Ops room and headed straight for the lounge to check on Callen. Deeks and Kensi followed. They were surprised to find Callen sleeping. His breathing was still much too shallow but less strained than it had been since the fall. Except for the occasional twitch in his hands and legs, he seemed peaceful.

Hetty soon joined the others in the lounge. The four of them just stood for a while, watching Callen sleep. Sam broke the silence, sounding as if he were thinking out loud. "He was already spent before the day even started. The case we worked yesterday was rough."

"Yeah, I could sort of see that when you two got out of the car this morning," Deeks commented. "You were moving pretty slow."

"Late night with Homeland Security?" Hetty asked.

"That, and the fact that our suspects bolted on us and we had to chase them for miles. And the guy G. took down was huge. Looked like David and Goliath. The man got in some powerful hits before G. could get him cuffed." Sam paused. "The fact that he hasn't eaten since yesterday morning doesn't help either."

Kensi shook her head. "I tried to get him to each his lunch. He wouldn't even look at it."

Hetty sighed. "I really need to determine the severity of Mr. Callen's injuries. But without knowing the source of the security breach, I am not certain it is safe to take him to a public facility just yet. Let's just leave him be for now since he seems to be finally getting some much needed rest. He's going to need his strength." All eyes were still on Callen as Hetty's tone became grim. "I'm afraid, for Mr. Callen, the worst may be yet to come." With this she turned and left for her office to make some call; calls that she hoped would reboot the investigation into Callen's case. Hetty's last sentence hung in the air. This was the second time that she had alluded to the fact that there was more to her conversation with the director than she had shared.

Kensi and Deeks returned to the bullpen and began sifting through evidence they had gathered at the crime scene this morning. With the shutdown of agency communication, it seemed to be of little use; but they had to do something. Sam stood a few more minutes, watching his partner sleep, before joining the other agents. The thought of what might be next for Callen caused his stomach to twist in knots.

Sam sat at his desk, absentmindedly looking through a stack of documents, preoccupied with his partner's physical condition and mental state. But like Hetty, he was apprehensive about taking Callen to the hospital, removing him from the safety of the operations headquarters. It became increasingly more difficult for Sam to concentrate. His emotions sored from anger, to fear, then frustration, and to worry until he was finally overtaken with exhaustion and nodded off to sleep.

_thanks __for __reading_


	7. Chapter 7

_Note: I am not claiming to be a "secret agent" nor do I have quick access to how things actually work within our Federal agencies. So please do not be too critical if you are privy to this information; I'm just making stuff up to keep my story going. (Maybe this story will turn out to be a comedy for those of you who are actually "secret agents.")_

_Thank you so much for the reviews. They make this new writer very, very happy!_

CHAPTER 7 - _The __Storm_

Sam had only been asleep for a little while when he was awakened by Hetty's hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Hanna?" His eyes flew open and he looked at his watch. He couldn't believe he had fallen asleep. "Mr. Hanna. Director Vance needs to hold a conference with the team in just a few minutes. He wants to speak with all of us. I need you to go get your partner."

"Hetty, he's finally resting."

Hetty sounded troubled. "I know. This is extremely important or I would not ask you to wake him." Sam stood and Hetty continued with only slightly more authority in her voice. "I have asked Mr. Deeks to assist you. Since Mr. Callen is currently not up to the challenge of climbing the stairs, Eric is setting up in the bullpen."

Just then, Eric yelled, "Director up in five!"

Deeks trailed Sam, who reluctantly plodded to the lounge. Sam paused and sighed deeply before squatting down beside the couch. "G." There was no response. "G." Sam gently shook Callen's left shoulder. When Callen did not respond, Sam shook him a little harder. "Come on, G. You gotta wake up." Callen lifted his eyebrows, forcing his eyes to open. He looked straight up at Sam and then his eyes slid shut. Sam sighed again; he was in uncharted waters. Except for when Callen was hospitalized after being shot, Sam had never known him to sleep this soundly.

Sam stood up and looked over at Deeks, dreading what was next. "Can you get his legs?" Deeks nodded. Then Sam leaned down and reached his arms around Callen, cradling his head and upper body. He would have ordinarily been reluctant to just place his partner in a bear hug without warning, but Callen did not seem to be in any condition to object and they needed to get him on his feet, and fast.

Deeks grabbed Callen's legs and on the count of three, they swung him up and around into a sitting position. The twisting of his torso and hip caused him to let out a forceful groan. Sam supported Callen, who had his eyes shut tightly, not fully awake but obviously in pain. "Sorry man," Sam said, pausing to let Callen catch his breath.

When it seemed most of the pain had subsided, Sam grasped Callen's right arm, Deeks the left, and they lifted a very groggy and shaky Callen to his feet. They gently tugged him frontward so he would begin walking forward. Callen's head was bowed as they made their way past the wardrobe area.

They guided Callen into the bullpen and were so concerned with getting him to his chair that they did not notice that Director Vance was already online and on the screen via webcam. As Callen approached his chair, his socked feet slipped on the tile and Sam and Deeks tightened their grip, keeping him from falling. Callen was eased down to his chair and when his arms were released, he peered up at Sam with a puzzled expression. Without saying a word, Sam motioned with his eyes for Callen to look straight ahead, toward the screen.

"Agent Callen, glad you could join us," Vance said via satellite. Callen looked up, his eyes widened and he began to breathe faster. He pushed himself up straighter in his chair, preparing to face another reprimand for withholding evidence from his superior.

"I just got off the phone with the CIA director who has assured me that they will assist us with our case in any way possible. I am waiting for a call from the FBI, as well. It would seem that your Operations Manager has been a busy woman this afternoon, cashing in on favors and maybe using some other tactics that I'm better off not knowing about. It may take a little time to get the investigation moving forward again but our task force is working around the clock to get to the bottom of this."

The director leaned in closer to the camera and his expression became more serious. "Callen, ordinarily I would have met with you in person, and privately, to discuss something as sensitive as this. However, for your safety, and the safety of your team, it is imperative that I take care of this as quickly as possible." Vance paused, and then looking as though he was about to pronounce a death sentence, he continued. "Agent Callen, this is not the first time surveillance photos of you have surfaced. But this time, classified information has been leaked; information that directly links you with our agency."

Callen's heart was pounding and his head was spinning. He was having difficulty focusing but he knew this was not good. He had been around long enough to know the protocol for dealing with undercover agents when their identities had been compromised.

"After careful consideration, our security committee has advised that you be set up with a new identity and transferred to an undisclosed unit, where you will serve in a teaching and mentoring capacity."

Callen began to shake and it was becoming even more difficult to breathe. His eyes frantically searched the room, as if looking for an escape.

Kensi stepped toward the screen. There was alarm in her voice as she asked, "For how long?"

Vance paused. "I'm afraid indefinitely, Agent Blye."

Panic had filled the room like a swarm of bees. Sam's blood began to boil. "This is ludicrous! He didn't cause this. G. follows protocol better than any agent I know."

"Agent Hanna, I can assure you, this is not a punishment. And the decision was not made lightly. The integrity of NICS is at stake; not to mention the lives of our agents. Just being in the same vicinity with Callen puts you all at risk."

Callen lowered his head, resting his forehead in his shaking hands. His chest was burning as he fought to get more air. This was coming at him too fast. He did not even notice when Sam placed his hand on his shoulder.

Vance looked at Hetty, concerned at how quickly Callen's condition had declined. Hetty shook her head in disgust and then asked, "When will this be affective?"

"The security committee will coordinate his transfer with the special task force assigned to this case. When they have determined it is safe to move him, all of his legends will be burned and he will be set up with his new identity. Agent G. Callen will no longer exist."

Callen suddenly bolted from his chair. His socked feet slipped and he fell to his hands and knees, his right knee making a cracking sound as it hit the hard tile. He frantically tried to get back onto his feet but kept slipping. He eventually crawled a few more feet, which put him just out of the view of the webcam. Vance called Hetty's name but she was too focused on Callen to notice. In fact, the director could see that everyone was turned, looking at whatever was going on with Callen.

Callen stopped when he reached a wastebasket and then began to vomit. Sam, Deeks and Kensi quickly made their way to him, and they were now off camera as well. Hetty looked up at the screen. "Leon, I'm afraid Agent Callen is indisposed for the time being."

There was nothing in Callen's stomach so what was heard next was a series of dry heaves. The involuntary contractions of his stomach were causing excruciating pain in his ribs and he doubled over, holding his side.

Vance then addressed Hetty with regret in his voice. "Hetty, please understand, this was not personal. Agent Callen is one of our finest." Hetty just nodded sadly. "I'll be flying into San Diego in the morning for a briefing at the Marine base at Miramar. As soon as I finish my business there, I'll fly to LA. Should be there sometime late afternoon. I'll talk to Callen more then. Now go take care of your agent."

"Tomorrow then, Leon."

Callen was still kneeling in front of the wastebasket, holding his side, but the violent heaving had stopped. His eyes were closed as he tried to calm his breathing. Kensi was sitting on the floor behind him, rubbing circles in his back. Sam was squatted down beside him, just watching with concern. Deeks had gone to the locker room and returned with a wet hand towel which he handed to Kensi. She stopped rubbing Callen's back and draped the towel around the nape of his neck. The coolness of the towel against his skin was soothing. Callen let out a soft breath and then opened his eyes.

Hetty brought Callen a small cup of water. He took the cup, with trembling hands, and rinsed his mouth. Kensi gently blotted his face with the cool towel. Callen closed his eyes again and lowered his head.

After several minutes, Sam placed his hand on Callen's shoulder. "You ready to get up?" Without looking up, Callen nodded. Sam and Deeks helped him to his feet and then guided him to the lounge area. He was still weak but more alert and able to walk on his own. Sam helped him lay down on the couch and Callen looked away. Sam knew that his partner had a predisposition for pulling away emotionally; he had seen this many times when Callen was faced with things from his past. But this was more than just the private, independent nature that the team had come to accept. Callen seemed withdrawn.

As Sam covered Callen with a throw, Callen kept his head turned away, avoiding eye contact. It was as if he had crawled off to a dark corner; that old familiar hiding place where he dealt with pain and loss. Sam was being shut out and felt helpless. Part of him wanted to hide Callen, to protect him until the storm had passed. And still another part wanted to take Callen by the shoulders and shake him and scream at him to fight.

Suddenly, there was a whistle from the top of the stairs and the team was forced to abandon their nursing duties for now. Callen needed to rest and the case needed their attention.

_Thank __you __for __reading __- __Please __Review_


	8. Chapter 8

_Another __"Quickie" __to __move __us __along __and __set __the __mood._

_After __consulting __with __experienced __writers, __I __am __changing __the __rating __to __T __just __to __be __safe. __I __think __it __may __be __more __appropriate __when __dealing __with __the __"hurt" __in __my __hurt/comfort __story._

_Hope __you __continue __to __read __and __review. __Thanks_

CHAPTER 8 - _Some __Insight __from __Nate_

It was now about 3:45 pm. As the team assembled upstairs in the Ops room, the mood was dark. How could this be happening? Hetty felt like her heart would break in two. She could not bear the thought of Callen being sent away. Kensi could hardly swallow because of the lump that had formed in her throat. Every so often, she would have to reach up and wipe away a tear that had escaped, hoping no one noticed. Deeks was numb. In just a matter of hours, their senior agent had gone from strong and confident, to weak and broken. Sam was filled with fear, anger, grief, frustration; he desperately needed a session with the punching bag.

Concentrating on the case was next to impossible for the team. Eric presented information that had been sent over by the NCIS task force. With the lines of communication re-opened, the CIA had shared the names of individuals who were on a watch list for weapons conspiracy. Now they just needed to connect the dots; to see if Callen had dealings with any of these people in the past.

Nell returned to the Ops room much sooner than expected. She had gone home and cleaned up but opted not to take the time to rest. She halfway expected a lecture from Hetty but none was given. She immediately sensed that the situation had worsened while she was gone. Eric caught her up on the new information and on what was going on with Callen.

The team had been researching the backgrounds of the suspects for about an hour when Eric received a call. He swiveled his chair around. "Hetty. It's Nate," he announced. "I'll have him up in just a sec." Eric performed some of his computer magic and Nate appeared on the screen.

"Nate?" Hetty sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Hetty. It's good to see you… All of you." Nate paused and then continued. "I received a call from Director Vance just a little while ago. He told me about the board's decision to relocate Callen. The director is concerned about Callen's mental state…as well as the emotional well-being of the team."

Hetty's voice was shaky. "I would like to say that all is well. But that would be untrue."

"I know you are in the middle of a case, so you can't even begin to process this. But my immediate concern is how Callen is coping."

"It would be difficult under any circumstances, Nate. But I'm afraid our Callen is in a rather fragile state just now. As I am sure the director told you, Mr. Callen was injured in a fall earlier today. I am fearful he may have suffered a head injury. Not knowing who has been watching him, or how they have been able to get this close to him, I have been reluctant to have him evaluated by a physician."

"Was he unconscious immediately after the fall?"

Hetty looked at Sam and he responded. "I don't think so. We were not able to get to him for a few minutes. By the time we felt sure the threat was gone, G. was awake. But he was weak and shaky and he almost passed out when we stood him up."

"Is he disoriented or having trouble staying awake?"

"He knows where he is and remembers what happened," Sam reported. "But it's sort of like he's in and out of a fog. As far as sleep, who really knows with G. Any sleep is more than usual for him. But he was hard to wake up a few times."

"Sam, has he revealed anything specific to you concerning his injuries?"

Sam snorted. "This is G. we're talking about; he tries to act like he's OK. But he's obviously in a lot of pain. He refused to let me take him to the hospital after he fell. He's so bullheaded. Sometimes I could just shake him."

"You'll have to remember that Callen has always been on his own. Being in a position where he is being cared for by others is foreign to him; maybe even humiliating. The second part of this is that kids that grow up being passed from home to home often learn to hide pain and illness. Being sick or hurt only makes them less desirable and then they are more likely to be passed to the next family. These kids become skilled at hiding pain and emotions." Nate paused and then spoke with more compassion. "Sam, just be patient with him."

"Oh, trust me, I am. Otherwise I would have shaken all his teeth out the first month we worked together."

Nate could not help but smile at Sam's response before continuing. "Hetty, besides this fogginess Sam referred to, is Callen experiencing any other symptoms consistent with a head injury?"

"Yes. His equilibrium is impaired, his eyes appear to be dilated, and he has had one episode of vomiting."

"Hetty I think your diagnosis is accurate." Nate's eyes narrowed. "I saw a lot of this when I did my clinicals at the Naval hospital. If he does have a concussion, this will likely cloud his judgment and hamper his ability to cope with his circumstances. Even without a head injury, this would be emotionally taxing. You are all familiar with his background. To him, especially in his questionable mental state, this may very well feel like just another relocation within the welfare system; another foster home where he is not wanted."

Frustration could be heard in Sam's voice. "Exactly! He thinks he's the one that's defective; not the system. He doesn't even have to say it. I can just see it." Sam paused and shook his head slowly. "He won't even look me in the eye."

"That's a safety mechanism, Sam. He has begun to detach himself from you so that leaving is less painful."

Sam's frustration only increased. "Nate, he's not beginning to detach. He's already on another planet."

There was another pause before Nate spoke. "Director Vance was not able to predict when Callen's transfer will take place. But until then, just stay close to him, and don't take it personally if he pushes you away. When he's up to it, I would like to speak with him. Just call me. It doesn't matter what time. That goes for any of you. I'm only a phone call away. And Hetty, I understand that going to the hospital right now is somewhat of a security risk, and I know how much Callen would protest going anyway, but if his symptoms persist or worsen…"

"I'll keep an eye on him, Nate."

"Wish I could be there for you guys," Nate said sadly.

"You are, Nate. I appreciate your insight. We'll keep you informed."

Eric disconnected the call. Everyone just sat quietly for a moment. It was as if Nate's words were suspended in the air, playing over and over in their heads. Callen was about to be torn away from yet another family. He had already begun to distance himself in hopes of diluting the pain of rejection and abandonment he had so often experienced as a child. Suddenly the case they were working on seemed secondary.

Hetty broke the silence, trying to disguise the grief that had overtaken her. "I think a break is in order, maybe even a cup of tea."

Hetty left the Ops room and went to her office to heat up her tea pot. Kensi, Deeks, and Sam followed her down the stairs. Kensi was the first to enter the lounge. The couch was empty! She turned around to tell the others and ran right into Sam. "Where's Callen?" she asked. By now, Sam and Deeks had also seen the unoccupied sofa. Sam noted that Callen's boots were not in the floor where he had placed them earlier.

Deeks checked the locker room while Kensi looked in all of the adjoining rooms. Sam stood in the bullpen for a moment, eyes locked on Callen's desk, fearing the worst. Now clear that Callen was not in the building, the three agents made their way to Hetty's office. They found her just standing, staring at her desk in disbelief. There lay Callen's badge, his SIG and back up weapon, cell phone, and keys.


	9. Chapter 9

_Here __is __another __short __chapter. __Maybe __if __I __continue __to __do __this, __I __will __learn __to __write __"grown__up" __chapters. __But __until __then, __I __am __just __not __able __to __connect __the __segments __that __well._

_Please __review._

CHAPTER 9 - _Gone_

G. Callen had run! Panic filled the room. Tears formed in Kensi's eyes as she tried to make sense of this. "Hetty, why?"

Hetty was somber. "I think you know why, Miss Blye."

Sam was suddenly overcome with anger and guilt and he slammed both fists down on Hetty's desk. "I should have stayed with him. I saw it in his eyes. He's my partner. I should have known."

Hetty walked around from behind her desk and placed her hand on the large agent's back. "Sam, you can't blame yourself. He would have found a way. You know how he is when he makes up his mind."

Deeks shook his head."How did he have enough strength to make it out the door? How did he even get his shoes on by himself, for that matter?"

"Like I said, when he makes up his mind…"

Sam turned to face Hetty and his anger melted to worry. "I have no doubt that G. knows how to survive on the street, but the man is in bad shape. He's weak and confused. On top of that, he hasn't eaten anything in close to thirty two hours. He won't last out there."

Hetty walked over to her phone and called the Ops room. Eric was on speaker when he answered. "Yes, Hetty?"

"Mr. Beale. I need you to review recent surveillance from the cameras just outside our building. Anyone leaving ..say…the past hour or so."

It took only seconds for Eric to respond; he sounded surprised. "Hetty. It's Callen! He left at…uh…4:07, not long after we ended the conference with Director Vance. … And…uh, Hetty… he's not walking so well."

"Thank you, Eric."

Panic was in Kensi's voice. "We have to find him."

Hetty sighed. "You know I cannot authorize a search. You all heard the director; just being with Callen puts you all at risk. And technically," she motioned to the items that had been left on her desk, "Mr. Callen no longer works for NCIS." Hetty's paused, puckered her lips and gazed up at the ceiling. "But what you all do on your own time is certainly none of my business."

"Where would he even go? Do you think he'd go by his house to get his stuff?" Deeks asked.

Kensi shook her head. "He doesn't have any stuff to get. His house is practically empty."

"Oh, but there is something, Miss Blye," Hetty said thoughtfully. "He keeps a tin box on his mantle. It contains the only remnants of his past that he possesses. If he believes he will not have another opportunity to retrieve this box, he may very well be willing to take the risk of returning home."

After a moment, Hetty held up her wrist, rather dramatically, and looked at her watch. "Oh would you look at the time. I think you all would benefit from a good night's sleep. It will be dark soon, so shoo," she said, motioning for them to go away.

Before leaving Hetty's office, Sam stopped and turned to her. "Would you ask Eric to start accessing traffic and security cameras?" Hetty peered at Sam over the top of her glasses. He got the message; she could not officially participate in the search. Sam gave her a single nod. "I'll call him myself," he mumble, turning to leave the room.

The agents met at their lockers and came up with a game plan for initiating the search. Deeks would ride with Kensi and Sam would take his own car. They would start at Callen's house and fan out from there. Sam would call Eric, while in route, to ask for his assistance.

All lights were off in Callen's house when they arrived. Sam unlocked the door. His heart was pounding. He hoped that Callen had not come back home, only to walk into a trap. Upon entering the living room, Kensi's eyes went immediately to the fire place; the mantle was empty. "I think he's been here," she announced. "The box is gone."

Using their flashlights, they began systematically searching each room. Sam reported from the bedroom, "He's definitely been here. He took his duffle bag and bedroll."

When Kensi went into the bathroom, she discovered a wet towel and a small pile of clothes in the floor; the jeans, blue t-shirt, and the boxers that Callen had been wearing. "Hey guys?" she called and Deeks and Sam came to her. "He changed clothes. And it looks like he cleaned up. The sink and shower are still wet."

Deeks was somewhat baffled. "Why would he take the time to clean up and change clothes?"

"I don't know," Kensi shrugged. "Maybe these clothes belong to Hetty and he was afraid she'd hunt him down with bloodhounds to get them back."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "You have a point." Sam thought about how he often teased his partner about staining or outright destroying most of what he borrowed from Hetty's precious wardrobe. "But more than likely, he knows it may be a while before he has another chance to clean up. Whatever the reason, now we have no idea what he's wearing. That's going to make this a little more challenging."

Just then, Sam's cell phone rang. "Eric, did you find him?" he asked impatiently.

"Well … yes and no. He took a cab as soon as he left the office and got out about three blocks from his house. I don't see him after that so he apparently walked the rest of the way. Then about twenty minutes later, there's a shadow … could be someone walking away from the house but they never come into view. Maybe Callen?"

"It was Callen," Sam said. "He knows the camera's there."

"Sam," Eric said cautiously. "We won't have eyes much longer. We're running out of daylight."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks Eric."

After completing the search of the house, Deeks and Kensi began searching the streets east of Callen's house and Sam searched west. All three agents were very much aware of the challenge they were faced with; they were looking for an individual who was a master at blending in. But Sam was hoping that the very thing that made Callen so vulnerable on the streets right now would increase the probability of finding him; he was tired, hurt, hungry, and definitely off his game.

Sam called Kensi at about 9:00 pm and insisted that she and Deeks go get something to eat and then get some sleep. They would begin the search again in the morning when there was light. Sam drove around several more hours before finally conceding that Callen had already bedded down somewhere for the night. He reluctantly headed home.

Sam took a deep cleansing breath as he sat at his table eating his dinner. He thought about that nagging, sinking feeling he had as the day began. He smiled, remembering how childlike G. looked, sitting in the passenger's seat of the _Challenger_, pouting because Sam would not stop at the pastry shop. Then it occurred to him how hungry Callen must be right now and his smile disappeared. He wished he had stopped.

Sam lay in his bed, recounting the events of the day. It was hard to believe this was the same day that had begun with that phone call from Eric; the same day he had picked Callen up and then drove to the crime scene; the same day that someone had tried to shoot his partner. _"Partner." _That last word echoed through Sam's mind as he finally drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

_I __struggled __with __the __content __of __this __chapter __and __decided __to __leave __in __an __incident __that __may __seem out of character and may be even upsetting to some readers. But is is just another aspect of "hurt/comfort" and to remove it would be a bit more than "tweaking" the story for me._

_Thank you for reading and reviewing._

CHAPTER 10 - _Finding Callen_

Sam resumed his search for Callen the next morning at daybreak. He felt sure that his partner would be drawn to familiar surroundings so he began driving through some of Callen's old neighborhoods. The weather was warm and it drizzled off and on throughout the morning. Occasionally, the steam rising from the hot pavement would hinder Sam's view and he would have to park his car and search on foot.

Back at the OSP center, there had been no significant overnight developments in the case so Kensi and Deeks slipped out to join the search; of course, with Hetty's unspoken blessing. As the morning passed, Hetty flitted in and out of the Ops room, checking on the status of the case and the whereabouts of her agents. Even though she would never show it, she was always amazed by her information analysts' multitasking skills. Today, Eric and Nell were simultaneously keeping an eye out for any updates from the CIA, FBI and the task force, viewing feed from numerous traffic cams in hopes of finding Callen, and monitoring Sam's and Kensi's locations by GPS.

It was about 1:00 in the afternoon when Eric caught a glimpse of someone near the water. The man was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, his back to the camera. The view was obstructed by the position of the tree but Eric could see the man's left shoulder and the lower part of his left leg. Eric enlarged the view and moved closer to the screen, trying to remain calm. There had already been several false alarms this morning. Nell rose from her seat and joined him in examining the image. "Could be," she said, as if talking to herself.

Eric spoke in the agents' earpieces. "Hey guys. I might have something. The twelve hundred block of Russell, between the Cedar Sands Café and the sunglasses stand, there's someone sitting behind a tree. It could be Callen. Can't see his face. … Kensi, you and Deeks are only a few blocks away. Turn left at the next light and then take a right onto Russell. Sam, I'm sending it to your GPS."

Sam could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He thought to himself that it was time for this to be over. He was frustrated with his partner for going out on his own and putting himself in a dangerous position; for putting the entire team in this position. Then Sam was suddenly afraid of what condition they might find Callen in. Life on the streets could get pretty rough and Callen was too hurt and weak to defend himself. Sam received GPS directions and began to drive faster.

Deeks motioned for Kensi to pull over when he located the spot Eric had described. They got out of the car and walked toward the water to get a clearer view. The man resting against the tree was wearing faded jeans and a loose fitting gray t-shirt. His hair was darker because of the recent rain but it was definitely Callen. His head was lowered but they could see that he was awake. Not wanting to spook him, Kensi held out her hand for Deeks to stop. "Sam. How far out are you?"

"Almost there. Kenz. Is it G.?"

Kensi paused, watching Callen slowly and painfully struggle to get to his feet. Using the tree to steady himself, he picked up his bag and bedroll, and then began limping toward the café parking lot.

"Kensi?"

"Yes. It's Callen. But he just got up." Tension was rising in her voice. "He's walking away from us."

"Has he made you?"

"No."

"Stay close but don't approach him unless you have to. I'll be there in two."

Kensi and Deeks followed at a distance. All at once, Callen stopped and turned to face them. He had caught a glimpse of their reflection in the café window. He stood for a moment, stunned, staring at the younger agents. Then his expression changed to panic and he dropped his bag and bedroll, turned, and began to try to run. Within the first few strides, his right leg buckled and he fell onto his hands and knees. Deeks and Kensi moved toward him, hoping to stop him before he hurt himself any worse. "Sam, he spotted us. He's on the move," Kensi reported as she and Deeks narrowed the gap.

Callen managed to get up and made another attempt to run. He stumbled onto the parking lot again. Trying to catch himself, he landed forcefully on the palm of his right hand and then slid forward, the rough pavement grinding into his forearm.

Sam had now parked and was quickly approaching on foot. He was close enough to just make out Callen's last fall. Callen was getting up, attempting to regain his footing on the wet pavement when Deeks and Kensi reached him. In an effort to stop him from running again, Deeks grabbed Callen's arm. Callen blindly swung around and hit Deeks in the side of the head with the back of his hand. The hit was not hard but it caught Deeks off guard and he was knocked backward a few steps.

Sam was running as fast as he could to reach Callen but it felt like he was in quick sand; he just could not get there. All Callen could think about was that he had to get away; he was to the point of delirium. He had tripped forward again and was attempting to get back up when Kensi grabbed on to the back of his shirt. Callen flipped over onto his back, drew up his left leg and kicked as hard as he could, his foot landing square in Kensi's stomach. The blow sent her flying backward and she landed hard on her backside.

Sam was still sprinting toward Callen when he saw Kensi get knocked to the ground. His heart pounded even harder. He was furious about what he had just witnessed. How could Callen, under any circumstance, hurt Kensi?

Breathing had become much more difficult for Callen and he lacked the strength to get back onto his feet. Sam reached him just as he had pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, and was making a feeble attempt to crawl away. Sam dropped down on Callen's back, plunging him face down into the pavement. He pressed one knee down on the back of Callen's thigh so that he could no longer move his lower body. Then instinctively, in one quick motion, he grabbed Callen's wrists and pulled his arms up behind his back. "Don't move," he barked, pinning Callen down.

Kensi had caught her breath and made her way to Callen's side. Still with his torso and the right side of his face being forced to the ground, he looked so confused and frightened. He was struggling to breathe and Kensi knew she had to convince Sam get off. "Sam, please! He didn't mean it. He didn't know."

Deeks touched Sam's shoulder. "Sam, he can't breathe."

Sam suddenly realized how much additional pain he was causing his partner. Just as he began releasing his pressure, Callen's body went limp; he had passed out. Sam moved off of Callen and just sat there on the pavement, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands. He was overcome with regret. Yesterday, he had injured his partner in the process of saving his life. But today, he had just completely lost control. What had he done?

His breathing constricted from being positioned on his stomach, Callen began making soft wheezing sounds. Deeks knelt down at Callen's side, next to Kensi. He reached to turn Callen over and was stopped by Sam's firm grasp to his wrist. It was as if Sam was in a daze, still processing what had just taken place and he did not want anyone to touch his injured partner. Opposing Sam was definitely not something Deeks was accustomed to but someone needed to take control. "Sam," he spoke calmly but firmly. "We have to get him onto his back. He's not getting enough air."

Sam's eyes were sad. He looked down at Callen, nodded, and then released Deeks' wrist. Deeks and Kensi rolled Callen onto his back. Sam turned his head away, afraid to look at what damage he had caused.

Callen was so pale against the dark pavement. His lip was bleeding again. The scrape on his right cheekbone was reopened, and now extended up to the edge of his brow. Dirt and tiny bits of rock were ground into the wound. His breathing had only slightly improved after being placed on his back.

Sam finally turned his head to face Callen and just sat there, paralyzed with guilt. He had failed his partner, once again. He wished Callen would open his eyes at least long enough for him to tell him how sorry he was.

Kensi took out her phone and called Hetty, placing it on speaker. "Hetty, we have Callen. Things got a little rough but we have him."

"Yes. We saw, Miss Blye. Is he unconscious?"

Kensi turned and looked up at the traffic camera positioned directly behind her and realized that everyone in Ops had just watched the whole thing unfold. "Yes, Hetty. He's out. And he looks bad, worse than before."

"As I would imagine. A night out on the streets was the last thing he needed."

"Do you want us to take him to a hospital or bring him to headquarters?"

"I know he needs medical attention, my dear. But considering his fragile emotional state, and the fact that someone may be looking for him, I just can't place him in the hands of strangers just yet. Bring him here first. In the meantime, I'll call Nate to get his recommendations."

Kensi pocketed her phone. "We need to get him to the car. How do we want to do this?" Kensi and Deeks were both expecting Sam to come up with a plan for what came next. But he just sat there, still frozen.

Deeks moved up and positioned himself above Callen's head and slid his hands under Callen's shoulders. "Kenz, do you think you can get his legs?"

When Kensi began changing positions to help lift Callen, it was as if Sam came out of his trance. He reached out and touched Deeks' arm to stop him. "Wait. You won't be able to support him that way. I'll get him." Sam pulled his car keys from his pocket and handed them to Deeks. "I'll ride with G. in Kensi's car. She has more room."

"I'll get his bag," Deeks said and he and Kensi moved out of the way. Sam effortlessly scooped Callen up in his arms and stood. He could feel the dampness of Callen's jeans and t-shirt from the earlier rain. He carried his partner to Kensi's car and gently placed him in the seat. As he was fastening Callen's seatbelt he asked, "Kiddie lock, Kenz?"

"What, Sam?"

"Do you have a kiddie lock, so the door won't open from the inside?"

"Oh, yeah." Kensi squatted down at the end of the open door and flipped the switch.

"You afraid your partner will bail on you?" Deeks asked.

"In a heartbeat."

Sam rode in the back of Kensi's car with Callen and Deeks drove Sam's car back to the OSP building. Under normal circumstances, Deeks would have been unable to contain his excitement about getting to drive the beloved _Challenger_. But this day was anything but normal.


	11. Chapter 11

_Callen is safe but they need to figure out what is wrong with him. Not a plot oriented chapter. Just TLC for poor Callen._

_Hope you enjoy. Please review._

CHAPTER 11 - _"Dr. Hetty"_

Fortunately, the trip back to the office was uneventful. Sam knew that it was a bad sign for his partner to be unconscious for this long but he was glad Callen did not wake up in transit. Kensi parked in the alley next to the entrance and held open the door to the building. Passing through the corridor, they saw Hetty waiting for them in the open area between the wardrobe and bullpen. It troubled her to see her agent having to be carried. "Are his clothes wet?" she asked.

"Not soaked. But they're wet," Sam answered.

Deeks entered the building carrying Callen's duffle bag and bedroll and Hetty instructed him to deposit them in her office. He did so and then put Sam's keys on his desk.

Hetty spread a large towel on the floor. "Place him here for now." Sam obediently laid his limp partner down on the towel. "Nate has agreed to contact a couple of his most trusted colleagues to see if they might be available to assist us with Mr. Callen's medical needs. In the meantime, we'll check him over and get him cleaned up. I don't want to lay him on the sofa until he is dried off."

Hetty picked up her medical bag, a bottle of water, and some towels from a nearby table. Looking down at his partner, Sam thought to himself how Callen would be desperately trying to get away from Hetty and her little medical bag if he were conscious. She seemed to always be chasing them around with it, threatening to examine them or doctor them, particularly after cases that had become a little rougher than expected. A smile tugged at Sam's lips as he recalled the look on Callen's face each time it was his turn to be "doctored."

Kensi removed Callen's boots, leaving his socks on since they were dry. Hetty placed a folded towel under the patient's head and then began giving out orders in her makeshift hospital ward.

"Gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to remove Mr. Callen's wet clothes."

Deeks looked around the room and realized that he and Sam were the only "gentlemen" present. Sam sighed deeply. This was not a task either of them looked forward to but Hetty was right; he didn't need to remain in wet clothes. Sam slid one hand under Callen's back, his other hand behind Callen's head, and lifted his partner into a partial sitting position. As Deeks began pulling Callen's arms out of the armholes of the t-shirt, they could see the scrapes on his palms where he had fallen, repeatedly, in the parking lot. There was also a large abrasion on his right forearm, extending from his wrist to his elbow. Like the wound on his face, the scrapes on his hands and arm contained dirt and grime.

Deeks worked Callen's arms out of the t-shirt and then pulled the shirt off over his head. Sam gently lowered his partner back down. Hetty gasped and then everyone suddenly became still and quiet. They could now see the culprit behind Callen's labored breathing and at least a good portion of his pain; a large, deep bruise on his right side.

As upsetting as it was to see this severe injury to Callen's ribs, everyone was equally disturbed at the sight of the now exposed scars from that terrible day in May; the day five bullets ripped through Callen's body. Hetty had to force herself to refocus on Callen's current situation. She moved a little closer and noted the area around the bruise was swollen. "Sam, do you think his ribs are broken?"

There was a delay in Sam's response as he, too, had to clear his thoughts; forcing out those haunting images of when he held Callen in his arms after the shooting. "I'd be surprised if he didn't have several broken ribs."

Hetty gently touched the swollen area on Callen's side, attempting to assess the extent of the injury. Callen grimaced, turning his head to the side and drawing up his left leg. Hetty pulled her hand away as soon as she saw Callen's response. It made Sam feel sick to think about how rough he had been with Callen in the parking lot just a while ago. If just touching his bruised ribs caused this much pain, no wonder he passed out when he was pinned face down on the ground.

Hetty waited until Callen had relaxed and then resumed her examination. When she pressed on his ribs again, Callen winced and his eyes opened. His gaze immediately locked onto Sam's, staring up at him with confusion and panic. He began to gasp for air and, using his left foot, tried to scoot himself up, away from Sam. When his socked foot kept slipping, preventing him from gaining traction, his panic only intensified, and he attempted to sit up.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sam said, placing his open palm across Callen's chest, applying just enough pressure to make him lie back down. "It's OK, G. I'm sorry buddy. I'm not gonna hurt you." Callen was still staring up at Sam like a frightened child but began to relax. "That's it. Take it easy. We've got you, G." Callen began to blink more slowly. "Nobody's gonna hurt you. You're OK now." Callen blinked groggily a few more times and then lost consciousness again.

Hetty looked up to see her information analysts standing at the top of the stairs, just staring down in disbelief. She could see the concern on their faces. Nell and Eric thought of their senior agent as strong and brave and maybe even invincible. The man they now saw lying in the middle of the floor was scared and helpless.

Hetty took a deep breath and then stepped back into her doctor mode. "Mr. Hanna. If you and Mr. Deeks will remove those wet jeans, I will prepare to clean his wounds."

Sam looked at Deeks and sighed. He thought to himself how G. would hate it if he knew they were stripping him down right here in the middle of the floor; or anywhere for that matter. Deeks was thinking more along the lines that Callen would beat the crap out of him for touching him, if he were conscious. Sam reluctantly unfastened the button and zipper. As they began pulling the jeans down from Callen's waist, Hetty asked, "Are his boxers wet?"

Sam wondered how much more intrusive this could get and then he, too, began having thoughts that his partner would be fighting them tooth and nail if he were awake. Sam felt the top of the boxers. "They're dry."

"Good. We'll leave them on." Sam and Deeks exchanged looks, both with eyebrows raised, as if they had just 'dodged the bullet.' They were relieved that they didn't have to completely strip him. They began turning Callen onto his left side to pull the jeans off his hips and Hetty stopped them suddenly. "Wait. Turn him over more, all the way onto his side." Sam and Deeks complied and they could now see what Hetty had spotted; there was a dark, deep bruise located at his waistline, just to the right of his spine.

"His SIG," Sam said softly. "He landed on his SIG when I pushed him off the platform."

"No wonder he about came unglued, yesterday, when we turned him over," Deeks said. "We rolled him over with his weapon still in his holster."

"There are a couple of more bruises, about six inches higher," Kensi pointed out.

Sam touched the area Kensi was referring to, just above the small of Callen's back. "I'm sure those are from the case we worked Monday. G. took several hard punches to the back."

"Same person who gave him the black eye?" Kensi asked.

"Same person."

Sam and Deeks continued pulling off Callen's pants until he was left wearing only his boxers and his socks. He looked so small and defenseless lying there. And those five scars he had been so determined to conceal, were now exposed for all to see. It made Sam's stomach twist in knots to see his partner in such a vulnerable state.

Hetty carefully scanned Callen for any other signs of trauma. The only other obvious injury was bruising and swelling of his right knee. Hetty picked up a towel and the bottle of water and began washing the scrapes on Callen's hands and arms. Still hovering near his partner, Sam thought he saw Callen shiver. He moved in even closer and touched his shoulder. His skin was too cool. About that time, Callen shivered again and Sam could see chill bumps form on his body. "Hetty, he's cold."

"He certainly is. Let me tend to the wounds on his face. Then we'll transfer him to the sofa and cover him with a blanket." Hetty began cleaning the dirt and debris from the abrasions on Callen's right cheekbone and temple.

"We're going to put some clothes on him first, right?" Kensi questioned.

"On the contrary, Miss Blye. Given Mr. Callen's obvious determination to wander the streets of Los Angeles, I think the absence of clothing might serve as a deterrent."

"Are you serious?" Sam sounded indignant. "You're holding G. here by taking away his clothes?"

Hetty looked up at Sam and her eyes narrowed. "Mr. Hanna, you know your partner. As soon as he regains even an ounce of strength, he will attempt another escape." Hetty returned to doctoring Callen's face.

Sam did not like the idea of leaving Callen without his clothes but Hetty did have a valid point. "I guess it's better than cuffing him to his desk. I just don't really want to be around when he realizes we've stripped him down to just his shorts."

Deek's eyebrows lifted. "Bet he'll be glad he didn't wear his _Batman __Underoos_ today."

Kensi rolled her eyes. After a pause, she said under her breath, "He's gonna be majorly pissed."

"I have no doubt," Hetty said. Then she looked up with a stern expression. "And no one, I mean, no one, is to offer Mr. Callen assistance in obtaining his clothes. Do I make myself clear?" she threatened. All three agents nodded.

Now finished with cleaning Callen's face, she reached in her medical bag and took out a tube of ointment. She squeezed a small amount onto the tip of her tiny ring finger, turned Callen's head to face her, and gently applied the ointment to the cut on his bottom lip.

"He's shivering," Hetty said, closing her bag. "Let's get our patient to bed."

Sam knelt on one knee, picked Callen up off the floor, and cradled him against his chest as if he were a sleeping child. He stood up, looked down at his cold, limp, and almost bare partner and mumbled, "Please don't wake up right now." He carried Callen to the lounge and placed him on the couch that Hetty had already draped with a sheet. Hetty put a pillow under Callen's head, covered him with a blanket, and then left the room to touch base with Nate. Without saying a word, Sam, Kensi and Deeks positioned themselves in the chairs located near the couch where Callen was sleeping.

_Thank you for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Sorry for leaving Callen in such bad shape while I took care of my real life for a few days. My story has been written for several months but I am making adjustments before posting each chapter. Had a lot of trouble getting this one just the way it was in my head once I had time to work on it._

_Special __Request: __I __am __not __allowing __myself __to __read __any __other __stories __while __I __am __working __on __completing __mine. __I __am __saving __them __as __my __reward __for __finishing. (The truth is that I am a strange individual who pours all my emotion into what I am doing and I can't break the track I am on.) __So __PLEASE, __PLEASE, __PLEASE __encourage __any __Callen/Sam __writers __to __keep __writing. __Thank __you_

CHAPTER 12 - Grounded

Sam, Kensi and Deeks sat silently, watching their sleeping senior agent. A short time later, Hetty returned to the lounge with snacks, a teapot and three cups. The food was a welcomed sight since they had not eaten lunch; the tea, however, not so much. But they put on their best fake smiles, knowing better than to refuse whatever mystery concoction Hetty had prepared. As she handed out the last cup of tea she said, "No news to report on the case but we are expecting an update from the FBI shortly. And I thought you all might be glad to hear that Nate was able to contact a colleague of his who is willing to perform Mr. Callen's medical assessment. Dr. Lee has been in Seattle, attending a conference, and is expected back sometime this evening. He will call me as soon as his plane lands in LA and has agreed to meet us at the boatshed."

"We're sure this Dr. Lee can be trusted?" Sam asked.

"Nate would not have made this recommendation if he was not certain. But as a precaution, no information concerning the case was disclosed. All Dr. Lee knows is that we have an individual in protective custody that is in need of medical attention."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Then he was reminded of how much his partner would dislike being submitted to an exam. "Are you going to tell G. about the meeting with the doctor?"

"I think it best that we wait until just before we take him to the boatshed. That will minimize the amount of time we have to endure your partner's futile protest." Hetty smiled at Sam, gathered up the, almost empty, tea cups and went back to her office.

After finishing their snacks, Kensi curled up in her over-sized chair and Deeks slouched down in his chair and closed his eyes. Sam sat down in a straight-back chair he had pulled up closer to the couch. He crossed his arms and rested his chin on his chest.

All was quiet for close to an hour when they heard a soft groan. Sam sat straight up, his eyes fixed on Callen. A moment later, Callen began to move ever so slightly and let out another, barely audible, moan. Kensi and Deeks rose to their feet, watching Callen as he began to stir. Callen's brow tensed from obvious discomfort. He brought his hands to his head, causing the blanket to drop down below his shoulders. He shifted his lower body, groaned again, and then opened his eyes.

Callen raised his head up off the pillow and scanned his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was and how he got there. Then his look of confusion was replaced with frustration; he closed his eyes and let his head fall back down to the pillow.

"Hey, Callen. How do you feel?" Kensi asked, stepping closer to the couch. Callen stared up at Kensi's eyes, searching for answers. Something was not right. He looked down at his exposed shoulders and upper chest and realized that he was not wearing a shirt. He became even more uncomfortable upon realizing his pants were missing, as well. He grasped the top of the blanket and pulled it up to his neck. Then he gave Kensi a quick glance, ducked his head, and brought his arms in closer to his sides as if trying to disappear into the cushions of the couch.

After a moment, Callen cautiously peered back up at Kensi and in a soft, raspy voice asked, "Where are my clothes?"

"They were all wet from the rain."

Callen's brow tensed and his, already choppy, breathing became just a little faster. "I need my clothes."

"Callen, I can't." Normally Kensi would have given in to Callen's begging blue eyes but she knew Hetty was trying to keep him safe.

Callen's gaze traveled over to Sam. Without saying a word, Callen asked his partner for help. Sam shook his head slowly. "Sorry, Buddy. Can't help you."

Callen seemed bewildered as he looked across the room to where Deeks was standing. Deeks took a step backwards and held up his arms in surrender. "Man, I'll have to admit, I sometimes find you a little intimidating…well, make that most of the time…but I am more afraid of your tiny boss."

Callen looked deflated, hit with the realization of who was responsible for taking away his clothes. "Hetty," he whispered.

"Smart man, Mr. Deeks." Hetty suddenly appeared, causing Callen to flinch and Sam to stand up. "You should be more afraid of me." She placed her medical bag and a bottle of water on the table and then turned her attention to Callen. "Agent Callen, your team has been given strict instructions that they are not to assist you in procuring your clothes. The wardrobe department is officially off limits to you, as well. At my request, Mr. Ortiz has already moved the clothing racks to a secure location."

Callen was becoming increasingly anxious. "Hetty. …I need my clothes. … Please."

Hetty took a seat in the chair next to Callen. "Out of the question. I have determined you to be a flight risk."

Callen tried to sit up and winced, the pain in his side preventing him from rising up more than a few inches. "I can't be here." He paused to get his breath, clearly distressed. "You know what Vance said. … I'm putting you … all in danger."

"You leave the Director to me. I will not have you roaming the streets in your condition. And as long as you are clad merely in your underpants, the chances of you walking out that door are greatly diminished."

Callen was frustrated and struggling to breathe. "Hetty. You can't do this." He gulped in a breath of air. "You can't leave me here … with no clothes."

"On the contrary, Mr. Callen. I can do this. You should be grateful you were permitted the luxury of keeping your boxers. You set one foot on this floor without my permission and you will lose those as well."

Callen studied Hetty cautiously for a moment. Realizing that she meant business and that he simply lacked the strength to fight it, he relaxed back down onto the couch. He averted his gaze from Hetty's and pulled the covers even closer to his chin.

His weakened body now overcome with exhaustion, he began to blink more slowly. It concerned Hetty that her agent was so quickly drained of energy. "Mr. Callen. You are grounded until I deem you fit. So you might as well lie back and rest so your body can begin to heal." Hetty stood up, picked up the water bottle and handed it to Sam. "Mr. Hanna, would you see to it that he gets some fluid into his system?"

Sam opened the plastic bottle, sat down beside Callen and offered him the bottle. Callen turned his head away. Hetty was just turning to leave when she witnessed the uncooperative response. "Mr. Callen. You will drink that water or, so help me, I'll have them roll you up in that blanket and transport you to the hospital."

That got Callen's attention. Even as bad as he felt, he cowered at the very thought of having to go to the hospital. He gave Sam a quick glance before reaching out with his trembling hand to take the bottle. Sam could see that Callen's head would need to be raised higher in order to get a drink and he knew his partner did not have the strength to sit up on his own right now. He wedged his arm underneath Callen's shoulders and head and raised him up off the pillow. Sam looked up at Hetty with concern; Callen's skin was now much too warm.

"Fever?" Hetty asked. Sam nodded.

Sam used his free hand to guide the water bottle to Callen's mouth. Callen took a tiny sip. The cool water felt good on his dry lips. Even with Sam's assistance in stabilizing his shaking hand, Callen spilled some of the water on the second drink. The cold water dribbled onto his hot skin, trickling down his neck and chest, causing Callen to hiss. When Sam guided the bottle back for a third time, Callen turned his head away.

"Come on, G. That couldn't have been more than a couple of teaspoons. That's not enough to keep a baby bird alive." But Callen was suddenly so tired. He hated this feeling because it meant that the recurring nightmares were just around the corner.

Within a few moments, Callen could no longer force his eyes to stay open and the dreaded darkness sucked him under. Sam gently lowered him down to the pillow and then looked up at Hetty and shrugged his shoulders. Hetty nodded, knowing that this was the best they could do for now.

_Please __Review_


	13. Chapter 13

_Just __a __"teeny __weeny" __chapter __while __Callen __is __sleeping._

_Hope __you __enjoy! __Please __review._

CHAPTER 13 - Mother Hen(s)

It was now late afternoon. Kensi and Deeks had taken a short break and then returned to the lounge where Callen was still sleeping. Sam had remained seated beside the couch, and was now leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. He was obviously troubled by Callen's deteriorating physical condition and unstable emotional state. This was not the resilient, self-assured, sometimes even cocky partner he had worked with for the past several years. He wished Callen would wake up and make one of his usual sarcastic remarks or even do something annoying like when he teased Sam about the configuration of his candy wrapper origami. Sam would even settle for Callen becoming peeved at him for being overly protective; reminding him that he was not his mother. Sam sat studying his partner, longing for any indication that G. Callen was still in there somewhere.

It didn't take long, this time, for Callen to begin to twitch. Sometimes it would be just a hand or his trigger finger. Other times both of his hands or his legs would flinch. Suddenly his whole body jerked, bringing on a brief pained expression.

"You think he's dreaming?" Kensi asked, breaking the silence.

"Something like that," Sam responded.

"I wonder what he's dreaming about that's making him so jumpy?" Deeks asked.

"Probably the same old things," Sam said. "I don't think G. has just your everyday, garden variety dreams. They're pretty intense."

"That's why he doesn't sleep very much?" Deeks asked with genuine curiosity.

Sam nodded, never taking his eyes off of Callen. "If he wasn't in such bad shape, he'd have already woken up. But right now, I think he's just trapped in whatever nightmare that's going on in his head."

A few moments passed and Kensi asked, "Do you think he still dreams about the shooting?"

"I still have nightmares about the shooting," Sam admitted before drifting off in thought for several seconds. "Yeah, I'm sure he does. That, and all the other times he's been shot, stabbed, held hostage; all the stuff he's had to do working under cover. And there's no telling what sort of dreams he has from when he was a kid."

Kensi was even more somber than before. "Do you think Nate knows what he dreams about?"

"I doubt it. You know G. He's the lone ranger." This was a trait that truly rubbed Sam the wrong way. "Has to do everything on his own."

"He does have a tendency to fly solo," Hetty piped in from out of nowhere. The agents all stood when they turned and saw Hetty and Director Vance standing in the doorway. "I sometimes think 'Obstinate' must be his middle name."

"As you were," Vance said casually. Deeks and Kensi sat back down but Sam just stepped to the side. The director maintained his position at the entrance to the lounge, taken back by how sick Callen looked.

Hetty sat down in the chair next to couch. "How long has our patient been twitching this time?"

"The past forty minutes," Sam replied. "And I'm pretty sure he's running a high fever."

Hetty was not surprised that Callen's partner knew the precise number of minutes he had been experiencing those troubling dreams and that his temperature was rising. She knew if she were to ask, Sam could also tell her exactly how many hours it had been since Callen had last eaten. As much of a lone wolf as Callen was by nature, Sam was a protector. Even at this moment, he was standing watch over Callen, making sure no one hurt him. Hetty thought to herself, though Sam would never admit it, he was like a mother hen to the team.

Hetty placed her hand on Callen's forehead. "You're correct, Mr. Hanna. I would guess at least a couple of degrees." She reached over to the table and took an ear thermometer out of her medical bag, snapped on a plastic cover and inserted the probe into Callen's ear. Hetty read the results aloud, "101.6." She returned the thermometer to the bag and then took out a bottle of _Tylenol_. Just then, Callen's entire body flinched, as if he were falling and tried to catch himself. Hetty watched as the tension slowly left Callen's body. Then she opened the medicine bottle and tapped a couple of the pills out into her palm. "Let's see if we can't rescue this man from whatever nightmare is haunting him at the moment. Sam, do you mind sitting him up a little? I would like to have him alert enough to take these_."_

Sam realized that Hetty had called him by his first name; something she rarely did. He thought to himself that she must be in full mother hen form. What surprised him more than being addressed by his first name was that Hetty was in her nurturing mode with the director in the room. But Vance was not surprised at all. He knew Hetty was even more protective of her team when he was present. Like after Dom's death, when he was questioning Callen about the status of his report; Hetty stepped between the two of them as if shielding her senior agent with her petite form.

Sam lifted Callen's head and shoulders and the change in position caused him to grimace. Sam supported him in a semi- sitting position as Callen slowly opened his eyes and then looked around groggily. Hetty reached up and stroked Callen's short hair and he squinted up at her. A smile tugged at Sam's lips; this just confirmed his thoughts of Hetty and the 'mother hen thing.' She was sneaking in some nurturing while Callen didn't have the strength to object.

Hetty slipped her index finger between Callen's upper and lower teeth and applied gentle downward pressure, causing his mouth to open slightly. Callen looked puzzled and tried to turn his head away as she pushed one of the pills into his mouth. "Here. Swallow this," Hetty said, picking up the bottle of water and pouring a small amount of water into his barely opened mouth. "It's for the fever. Should make you feel better."

All at once Callen made a face, as a child does when something tastes bad, and with a shaky hand he reached up to his mouth and raked the pill out with his finger. Hetty looked down and saw the partially dissolved _Tylenol_ on the tip of his index finger. "G. Callen." (If Callen's middle name was not a mystery, she would have thrown it in as well.) "What do you think you are doing?" She took the sticky pill from his finger and reinserted it into his mouth. The pill was swallowed after two additional sips from the water bottle. Hetty repeated the process for the second pill and it was successfully swallowed with only one drink.

Hetty was sure Callen was dehydrated and hoped she could get him to take some more fluid now that he was awake. But when she put the bottle of water up to his lips, he turned his head. "Callen, hospital," she barked. The threat of being dragged to the hospital had a sobering effect on Callen. He glared up at Hetty, furrowed his brow, and then reluctantly took two more sips. On the next offer, however, he closed his lips tightly and, once more, turned his head away. Callen swallowed hard and closed his eyes, apparently feeling sick to his stomach. Not wanting a repeat of yesterday's incident, Hetty thought it best not to force the issue. On Hetty's nod, Sam lowered his partner's head back down to the pillow.


	14. Chapter 14

_Well, __I __finally __took __the __time __to __find __out __how __to __update __my __profile. __As __a __"late__bloomer," __technology __is __sometimes __a __little __intimidating__-__but __I __did __it, __and __nothing __blew __up. __Being __afraid __of __new __things __is __one __reason __I __decided __to __post __my __first __story. __Now __that __I __have __finally __stuck __my __toes __in __the __water, __I __realize __the __water __is __not __so __cold __after__all. __(It __doesn't __mean __I __have __to __be __a __great__ "__swimmer__"__; __the __reward __is __knowing __that __I __have __challenged __myself __to __try __something __new.) __Thanks __to __Gabi __for __your __encouragement!_

_We're __a __couple __of __chapters __away __from __finally __gett__ing __some __help __for __poor __Callen. __Please __Review_

CHAPTER14 - Reality and Reflection

When Callen's wave of nausea had passed, he opened his eyes. Hetty returned the bottle of water to the table and got up from her chair. "Mr. Callen, Director Vance is here. He needs to speak with you; with all of us." She stepped back and Vance took a seat beside the sofa.

Callen looked up at the director and his eyes widened. His already uneven breathing became more choppy. He strained to rise up but stopped for a moment as pain flashed across his face. When he tried to sit up the second time, his shoulder was met by the director's hand. "No, No, No. Don't get up." But Callen only became more frantic, fighting to rise up. This time, Vance placed his open palm on Callen's chest and pushed him back down. "Easy, Callen." He could feel the erratic rhythm of Callen's breathing and Callen's heart was beating hard and fast against his hand. "Take it easy. … Just relax."

Callen stared up at the director. His dry lips parted as he tried to speak, struggling to get the first word out. "I … I'm sorry," he said, his voice weak and raspy.

"I don't understand. Why are you apologizing?" Vance asked, confused as to why the agent was in such a panicked state.

"Sorry … I'm still here … with them. … I tried to go … so they'd be safe."

"I know you did," Vance said, understanding the senior agent's tension and his motive for trying to distance himself from his coworkers.

With eyes widening even more and his level of distress increasing, Callen continued. "They're not safe. … Tell Hetty … I have to go. … I need my clothes."

"Callen, you are in an extremely vulnerable state. There are those out there who would take advantage of your weakened condition to gain access to classified information. You would be putting the integrity of our agency in jeopardy, as well as your life and the lives of your team members."

"I would never … let that happen." Callen tried to slow his breathing as his energy supply was quickly fading. Suddenly exhausted, he sank back down to the couch. Vance removed his hand from Callen's chest.

"That's a risk we are just not willing to take. Hetty was right in keeping you here. You are just too weak to be out there on your own."

Callen's eyes narrowed and he set his jaw. "I can take … care of myself," he said softly. This response was so typical of G. Callen. Even though he was weak and injured, he had become indignant at the implication that he was not self-sufficient.

Vance looked at Hetty and shook his head before continuing. "We are doing everything possible to bring this thing to a close. The FBI and our task force have been accessing names, places, and dates attached to each op you have been assigned to with the various agencies. They have asked that all of your aliases remain in the system until they have completed their investigation."

"Have they found anything?" Sam asked.

"They are still cross referencing the cases Callen worked with names of those suspected of having ties to this arms trading ring we are looking into. So far, they have one hit." Vance now turned his attention back to Callen. "When you were undercover with the DEA, you befriended a man, named Gregory Davis, in order to gather information about a large weapons and drug operation. Eventually, the DEA raided their hideout and Davis was shot and killed in the process."

Callen looked down sadly and whispered, "I had to shoot Greg."

"His younger brother, Peter Davis, is thought to be connected to the Pendleton case we are investigating."

"So they're thinking revenge could be the motive?" Sam asked.

"Those are the only dots they have been able to connect so far."

"Why wait so long for payback?" Kensi asked.

"Could be it took him this long to find Agent Callen. We just don't have the answers right now. The suspect's last known address is just outside San Diego. The FBI is attempting to locate him so they can bring him in for questioning." Vance looked down at Callen and sighed. "Callen, unfortunately, even if this individual is found to be responsible for making an attempt on your life yesterday, it does not change the decision made by the committee. You will still be removed from the team here in LA." Callen bowed his head and nodded. "Someone got dangerously close to you by somehow getting their hands on your classified files. And we don't know how many others now have access to this same information."

Callen's head remained lowered as the director continued. "Hetty informs me that it is your intention to resign rather than be reassigned." Callen did not respond. "We don't want to lose you, Agent Callen. But if that is your decision, just be aware that your official resignation will not be accepted until you are cleared medically. Until such time, you will remain under our protection."

Callen's brow tensed. Still looking down, he shook his head. His words were barely audible as he pleaded, "Please just let me go." For Callen, every additional moment he stayed, just made the inevitable separation that much more painful.

Vance cleared his throat in an attempt to remove any sadness and regret from his voice. "Callen, you have been with the agency long enough to know the protocol for when an agent is determined to be a security risk. I touched on this yesterday during our video conference but I have the responsibility of ensuring that you and your team members understand the permanence of the situation. When we get the "go-ahead" from our special task force, your true identity will be erased, along with your aliases. These are the terms whether you transfer within any of our federal agencies or resign." With eyes still lowered, Callen swallowed hard and nodded, once again. Having this knowledge was painful enough. But hearing it said aloud, with his team present, was like having a knife thrust into his chest. The director continued. "Callen, from the point your identity is burned, there can be absolutely no communication with Hetty or any other team member here in LA. You must cut all ties."

Callen's fate was confirmed. He looked up at the director briefly, his blue eyes sad and empty and now filled with unshed tears. As he turned his head away, a tear tickled down his face. Callen slowly, and painfully, maneuvered himself onto his left side so that he was now facing the back of the couch and then he pulled the blanket up over his head. Vance extended his hand toward Callen's shoulder but stopped short of touching him, realizing that any attempt to console him at this moment would be futile.

It was as if Callen had gathered up all of his hurt and fear and crawled into that dark, lonely hiding place that he knew all too well. He wished he could erase the memories of the past few years; forget the bonds he had formed. He had finally begun to trust and to understand what it meant to be part of a family. And now it was all being taken away. This was much too painful. He knew he could never allow himself to get this close to anyone again. Callen's shoulders began to shake as he silently sobbed.

Hetty watched helplessly, feeling like her heart would somehow break in two. Nate was right; they had not really had time to process what was happening to the team. They had all been so focused on finding Callen, and then trying to care for him, that they had not begun to deal with the reality of losing him. Sam just wanted to pick Callen up and run; to hide him somewhere until this all went away. But the reality was, it was not going away. No matter how hard he tried, Sam could not protect Callen this time. All he could do was watch his partner grieve alone. The loneliness and emptiness seeped into the room like a dark vapor, threatening to suffocate them.

Vance stood and he and Hetty exited the room. Kensi and Deeks remained seated and Sam sat down beside Callen. They watched their senior agent cry in silence for the next several minutes. He finally become still and they knew he had slipped off into unconsciousness once again. For most, this would be a welcomed escape; but not for G. Callen. The nightmares were there waiting for his return. At this moment, there was no refuge for him, whether awake or asleep.

Director Vance followed Hetty to her office and they sat down across from each other. Hetty's eyes were fixed on something on her desk and Vance realized it was her senior agent's badge. He studied her, giving her a moment to safely tuck her emotions away, and then he said, "You think I should have waited until he was better."

Hetty took a deep breath and then let it out slowly through pursed lips. "No, Leon. You didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. And besides, I think I can speak for Agent Callen when I say he would always prefer, to put in his words, the _Band-aid_ approach."

"I'm sorry. The _Band-aid_ approach?"

"Yes. His philosophy is, _if __it's __going __to __hurt __anyway, __just __jerk __the __darn __thing __off __all __at __once_."

"Well, that I did." Vance became even more somber. "I wonder at what point in his life he developed that philosophy for dealing with pain."

"Oh, Leon. You and I both know the answer to that; much too young."

"Hetty, I have asked Nate to set up a time to meet with each team member. That includes you."

"I can handle this, Leon. My concern is for the others."

"That is all the more reason you need to talk to Nate. You are like a mother hen to these agents. I know you care deeply for them. I'm not saying this is a bad thing. But it's going to make losing one of your little chicks more difficult."

"If they were chicks, I wouldn't worry so much. They would stay grounded and close to the nest. My agents are more like baby birds that have learned to fly; much more dangerous and worrisome."

Hetty and Vance sat silently in her office for a while. Vance thought about how losing Callen would impact the dynamics of the OSP and how much he would be missed. He considered G. Callen to be one of the best undercover agents that had ever worked for NCIS. Like any good agent, he was intelligent and possessed natural abilities. But Vance knew, what gave Callen the edge over most, was the set of skills he perfected as a result of his unfortunate life experiences.

Hetty sat, thinking about her "baby birds" and how special each was to her. The youngest bird was tiny but tough. She was still learning, but when she fell, she would dust herself off and try again. Even without the benefit of a female influence while growing up, she possessed a delicate quality.

The newest addition to the nest was still trying to determine if he truly belonged. He often used humor to cover his insecurity and the shame of growing up with an abusive father. Hetty hoped that he would someday feel accepted.

The largest bird was as sensitive as he was strong. When Hetty was not available, she could count on him to take over the role of protector. He would literally give his life to save one of the others. He was loyal and dependable, and determined to make the nest stable and safe.

But Hetty had one little bird that was not accustomed to being in a nest at all. This bird was known for flying off on his own. Even at times when his wing had been broken, it took some persuasion (sometimes even force) to keep him within the safety of the nest_. _Hetty's heart was heavy because her little bird, just beginning to learn to trust, would soon be plucked from the nest, never to return.


	15. Chapter 15

_Just __like __my __inab__ility __to __connect __some __of __my __tiny __chapters, __I __just __could __not __find __a __break __in __this __marathon __chapter. __It __is __a__" transitioning" __chapter __so __it __needed __to __cover __a __lot __of __ground._

_Hope __you __enjoy. __Thank __you __again __for __all __your __kind __reviews. __They __make __my __heart __happy!_

CHAPTER 15 - Transitioning

Hetty and the director were both deep in thought when they were called to the Ops room for an update. Eric explained that the suspect had been apprehended by the FBI and was being transported to their San Diego office for questioning. "They are in the process of searching Davis' residence."

Eric and Nell now turned and faced each other; both with eyebrows arched and Nell biting down on her lower lip. "What else, Eric?" Hetty asked.

"Nothing. That's all we were told."

"Those looks tell me otherwise. What are you not telling us."

Eric shifted uncomfortably. "It was just too easy."

"What do you mean, 'too easy'?"

Eric opened his mouth to answer, but when he hesitated, Nell began to speak instead. "We have been following the FBI's investigation and things just seemed to fall into place too quickly. Leads that would normally have taken days, or weeks to track, were panning out in a matter of hours."

"Something just feels 'hinky'," Eric added.

As much as Hetty wanted this to be over, she trusted her analysts' suspicions. This prompted Director Vance to put in a few phone calls to those overseeing the investigation and he was assured that they would continue to search for other leads.

When Vance and Hetty returned to the lounge to brief the agents, Kensi and Deeks were sitting silently and Sam was stationed at his partner's side like a faithful protector. It was clear that he was not budging. Callen was still lying on his left side, facing the back of the couch, the blanket pulled up over his head.

"Is he sleeping?" Hetty asked, addressing Sam.

Without taking his eyes off of Callen, Sam responded, "I think so."

"Twitching?"

"Just started."

Hetty continued to observe Callen . "He can't be getting enough air. Do you think we could at least uncover his face?" Sam gently untangled the blanket from Callen's hands and then pulled the covers down to his shoulders.

Hetty now turned her attention to the investigation. "Director Vance and I have just been informed that our suspect is in custody."

"Boy, that was fast," Kensi said, sounding surprised.

"Maybe too fast. Mr. Beale and Miss Jones seem to think we may not be on the right track. Hopefully we will get some answers when they question Davis and complete the search of his residence." Eric stuck his head in the door and then stepped into the lounge. "Yes, Eric?"

"Nate's doctor friend just called to say his plane has touched down. He still has to go through baggage claim and then catch a shuttle to his car. Since he has no way of knowing what the traffic will be like, he will call when he is about thirty minutes out."

Just then, Callen began to make a faint wheezing sound. Sam turned and looked at Hetty with concern. She nodded. "Go ahead Sam. I know you would prefer not to disturb him, but I think his breathing is just too restricted in that position."

Deeks joined Sam beside the sofa. Callen moaned as they turned him over onto his back. His eyes were now partially open but were not focused. Then Callen uttered something in Russian. His brow remained furrowed from the pain that lingered. Sam placed his open palm on the top of Callen's head. "Sorry G.," he said, moving his thumb up and down Callen's temple. "Sorry."

The pain subsided and Callen's eyes closed. When Sam was sure Callen was sleeping again, he adjusted the blanket that covered him.

"What was Callen saying?" Kensi asked, expecting Hetty to answer.

But Vance responded instead, "He said, 'please, no.'"

Eric was, once again, stunned by Callen's weak and battered appearance. He stood watching, with the others, as Callen lay sleeping. Callen was so pale. His normally sandy colored eyelashes were dark from tears that lingered.

The director was also troubled. Callen's weakened body was struggling for each breath. Vance was growing more concerned that the security of the agency had taken precedence over this agent's health. Eyes still on Callen, he asked, "Hetty, do you think the doctor is going to be able to adequately care for him at the boatshed?"

"No Leon. I believe the hospital is inevitable." Hetty was questioning her decision to bring Callen back to the office rather than have him taken to the hospital. "He has been so bull headed about disclosing the nature of his injures. Hence, we have no way of knowing what we are dealing with. His fluid intake has been almost nonexistent and he has not eaten in quite some time."

"Fifty-seven hours," Sam interjected.

As if in a trance, they all continued to stare at Callen. After a short pause Hetty asked, "Leon, do you think the security committee would approve one last alias for our agent? Just long enough to get him the help he needs?"

The director blinked several times and his trance was now broken. "Consider it done. Let me make some calls."

Hetty turned to Eric. "Would you call the doctor and see if he would agree to meet us at the hospital instead? And then, when the director gives the go ahead, create a new alias for Mr. Callen?"

"On it."

"I'll go locate some clothes for him," Hetty said as Vance and Eric turned to exit the lounge. "Oh, and Eric. Could you see that Mr. Callen's recent medical history is meshed with the data for his alias? I want to make sure the doctor has access to the medical records from his shooting."

"Will do." Eric and Vance left for the Ops room and Hetty went to find clothes.

"Finally," Kensi said. "He definitely needs to be in a hospital."

Sam sat back down beside Callen. "If he hadn't run off yesterday, this probably would have happened a lot sooner. Hetty was just trying to protect him."

"Callen made it pretty clear that he did not want to go to the hospital," Deeks said. "Can they force him to go if he resists?"

"Oh, he can resist all he wants. But he's going," Sam said, looking down at his sleeping partner who was oblivious to the implied threat.

Over the next half hour, Vance made several phone calls while Eric and Nell created a legend for Callen that included driver's license and other pertinent documents. Hetty, well who ever really knew what Hetty was doing. Sam took a short break, of course not without ensuring the other two agents stood guard for him while he was away.

As the final pieces were being put into place for Callen's temporary identity, Vance came downstairs and gave the go ahead to get him ready. Hetty entered the lounge, carrying a change of clothes for Callen and was astonished to find him awake; weak but surprisingly alert.

"Oh, he's awake. Goody" she said, rather sarcastically, preferring that he had remained unconscious at least until they could get him to the hospital. "Does he know about the little excursion we have planned for him?" Sam shook his head. Hetty dreaded having to tell Callen what was next. He absolutely hated hospitals and doctors and needles. But what he seemed to dislike most was the confinement and the dependency associated with being in the hospital.

Callen weakly peered down at the neatly folded clothes Hetty had just placed on the end of the couch. His voice was hoarse, speaking for the first time since waking up. "Are you letting me go now?"

"No, Mr. Callen," Hetty answered. "I am not." He looked puzzled. Hetty took a deep breath. "You need more help than we can give you here. We are getting you dressed so that we can take you to get that help." Callen stared up at Hetty. His eyes widened. "Callen, you need to be under the care of a doctor. We have arranged to take you to the hospital."

Callen shook his head, quickly headed for a meltdown. "No," he said forcefully as he strained to try to rise up. "Just let me go."

Director Vance stepped in between Callen and Hetty. "Could everyone please step out for just a moment?" Sam hesitated and then reluctantly stood up. Vance sat down in the chair beside Callen.

Kensi, Deeks, and Sam followed Hetty to just outside the doorway of the lounge. Callen turned his head upward, watching them until they were no longer in view. His breathing was erratic as he became more desperate. With eyes still fixed on the doorway where his co-workers had just exited, he called out, "Hetty, no. … I'll drink the water." His pleading caused Hetty's chest to ache. With his coworkers out of view, Callen was now more agitated and began to weakly thrash his arms and legs, not caring that his right leg was now exposed and that the blanket had dropped down to his waist. "Hetty, please... I'll drink all of it…. Don't make… me go… Please." Sam had to fight the urge to interfere. He had never seen his partner like this and hearing him begging was tearing him apart.

It was obvious that Callen was quickly using up what little energy he had left and needed to stop struggling. The director knew that pinning him down would only cause him more distress so he simply grasped both of Callen's wrists, preventing him from moving his arms. "Callen, you need to listen to me." Callen squirmed weakly. Vance's voice was firm but calm. "Stop moving. I don't want to hurt you. I just need you to lie still so I can talk to you." Callen's tension slowly eased and his strength was fading. With his chest now uncovered, the struggle for each breath was even more visible.

Callen was now too weak to resist. When he could no longer move, he glanced up at the director. Vance was unnerved by the flash of fear he saw in those usually cool, blue eyes; eyes that had gone through a lifetime of training in the art of concealing emotions. Vance had seen countless surveillance clips of Callen staring down the barrel of a gun that was being pointed at him, not so much as flinching, as if he had nothing to lose. But now, this agent was frightened and defenseless.

Callen bowed his head in defeat and Vance released his wrists. Now realizing that his body was uncovered, Callen cautiously moved his trembling hands down to his waist and slowly pulled the covers back up over his stomach and then his chest. His hands continued to shake, holding the top of the blanket up to his chin. He just wanted to simply disappear.

Vance reached down and covered Callen's right leg with the blanket. "Agent Callen, I realize you did not bring any of this on yourself. And I certainly did not want this for you. But here we are. You must decide, at this point, how you want your team to remember you."

Callen looked up at Vance, eyes weak but icy cold. "Don't want them to … remember me at all," he said softly and then turned his head away.

Vance closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to maintain his composure. He knew Callen would shut down if he showed even an inkling of pity. "The fact is, Callen, they will remember you. It may be your style to move from place to place without emotional attachment. But it's just not that easy for the rest of your team." Callen continued to look toward the back of the couch. "I know you think you are protecting them by pushing them away. But you are only inflicting more pain." Callen's brow furrowed and his breathing rate, once again, began to increase. His eyes scanned the room as he tried to process what he had just been told. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt them. Callen swallowed hard, struggling to push his emotions back down to their hiding place.

The director paused a moment to allow Callen to sort out his thoughts. "The decision is final; you will go to the hospital to get checked out and receive whatever medical attention you need. I will not accept your resignation until after the doctors have released you from their care. Where you go after that, is up to you." Callen stared straight ahead as Vance continued to reason with him. "So you can either, put on those clothes and leave this place with at least some degree of dignity, or we can take you just as you are, kicking and screaming like a two year old child. Those are your options." Vance leaned in closer. "If you care at all for Hetty and your team, you will not cause them more grief than they are already experiencing." Callen's eyes were suddenly sad. He turned his head to the side, trying to conceal the tears that had formed. "I'm sending Sam in to help you get dressed."

Director Vance exited the lounge and almost ran into Hetty and the others who were hovering just outside the door. "Well done, Leon" Hetty said, peering up at her superior. Vance gave her a quick nod. Then Hetty asked knowingly, "Might you have received some pointers from Nate this afternoon?"

"As a matter of fact I did," he replied, smiling down at Hetty. "Thought we could use a little help. I find Agent Callen to be rather complicated. That's even when he is not on the injured list."

Hetty sighed. "Complicated and stubborn. I don't think I have ever known anyone so dead set against being tended to."

Just then Eric appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Everything's taken care of. Dr. Lee has privileges at County. We have it all worked out with the hospital and the doctor. Callen is being admitted through the ER as a witness that we have placed in protective custody. The hospital said to wait about forty-five minutes while they finish up a trauma case. Bring him through the ER entrance and they'll have an exam room ready."

Vance looked at Sam. "Would you…" He did not even finish his sentence before Sam was back in the lounge to assist his partner.

Callen was still holding on to the top of the blanket but he was now relaxed, looking straight ahead, blinking slowly. Sam sat down in the chair beside him. "Hey. They said it's time to get ready."

Callen looked up at Sam. His eyes were filled with regret. "Sam," he said weakly. "I…I'm…"

"I know, G. But you don't have anything to be sorry about."

A puzzled expression crossed Callen's face and he lowered his head. "I don't understand."

"Don't understand what, G.?"

"Why they're making me go," he said softly.

"Director Vance just explained that to you."

"What does it matter?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked rather impatiently.

"Why do they care if I get better? … I'll be gone."

The question made perfect sense to Sam. It felt as if they were administering first aide to a man who was on his way to be executed. Callen was more rational than he had been since just after the accident but Sam did not like the product of this clearer thinking; Callen felt worthless. Sam was at a loss of how to respond. He just knew he had to find a way to snap Callen out of this slump and keep him fighting.

"Knock off with the pity party, G. Stop stalling and put these clothes on or you'll be leaving here in your boxers. And believe me, no one wants to see that." Sam smiled on the inside when Callen shot him a sideways glare. He knew his partner was too weak to put up much of a fight but that quick glare would do for now.

Sam stood up and took the jeans from the end of the couch. Callen reached out his shaky hand to take the pants from Sam. Sam stopped and looked at him like he was crazy. "I don't think so."

"I can dress myself," Callen said with a faint voice. "I'm not a baby."

Sam smiled at his partner's stubborn nature. "Well then stop acting like one and let me help you."

Callen averted his gaze from Sam's, obviously uncomfortable, when Sam removed the blanket. Sam slipped the jeans onto Callen's legs and up past his knees. When he placed his hands on Callen's shoulder and leg, preparing to roll him over, Callen lightly grasped Sam's forearm. "Sam, don't. I can stand up."

"G. You're not in good enough shape to stand." Sam once again grasped Callen's shoulder and leg and began to turn him over onto his left hip.

"Please. Sam… Just let me get up."

"You don't have the strength to get up on your own. You're going to have to let me help you."

Callen looked away from Sam and spoke in barely more than a whisper. "I know. But it hurts when you pull on me … to turn me over. Just help me stand up."

Realizing that even the slightest movement was probably extremely painful for Callen at this point, Sam decided to comply with his request to stand. "OK. Have it your way." Sam slid one arm under Callen's back and the other behind his knees and rotated him, in one motion, to where he was sitting on the couch. Callen flinched and fought back a yelp caused by the pain in his side and hip. Being suddenly upright, now caused him to feel light headed; his head tilted down. Sam supported him so that he would not fall forward.

"Deeks!" Sam called.

"Yo!" Deeks answered from the doorway.

"A little help!"

Deeks entered the lounge. "What do you need?"

"_Superman_ here insists on standing up to put his pants on. When I stand him, will you pull them up?"

Deeks and Sam helped Callen stand on his shaky legs. Sam maneuvered himself around to where he was facing G., supporting almost all of his weight. Callen began to droop forward as Deeks worked the jeans the rest of the way up. Sam placed his hand behind Callen's head and guided him forward so that his head was resting on Sam's chest. "You still with me, G?" Sam felt an ever so slight movement of Callen's head as he nodded. Callen's skin was too hot and Sam thought to himself that the _Tylenol_ had definitely worn off and that his partner would not be awake too much longer.

Sam continued to support Callen until Deeks had zipped and buttoned his jeans. "I don't think these are his jeans," Deeks commented, noting that the waist of the jeans was much too loose and in danger of sliding down on his hips.

"That's because my scrawny partner is apparently on a hunger strike." They eased Callen back down to where he was sitting on the couch and then slipped his arms into the white long-sleeved, button-up shirt that Hetty had left for him. Callen automatically reached up and began to fasten the buttons of his shirt. Hands shaking, he finally managed to fasten two of the buttons. Noticing that the buttons were not matched with the correct buttonholes, Sam shook his head, pushed Callen's trembling hands out of the way, and took over the task.

Hetty, Vance and Kensi were still waiting just outside the door and heard Callen's protest when Sam tried to pick him up. "I can walk."

Sam sputtered. "I don't think so."

"Please Sam. Don't carry me."

Sam knew that Callen was humiliated at the thought of being carried in front of his coworkers. Wanting to save him further embarrassment, he decided to let him at least attempt to walk. Deeks and Sam helped support him as he stood and then began to take unsure steps. They had just made it out of the doorway of the lounge when Callen's legs gave way. Deeks held him upright while Sam bent down and scooped Callen up in his arms. Callen's protests were becoming weaker. "Sam. I can walk."

"We tried that already."

Callen's voice was fading as Sam continued to carry him toward the exit. "Put me down…Sam…Don't carry me…Sam." Callen's last word was barely audible and then he went limp in Sam's arms. Sam cradled his partner against his chest and could feel the warmth of Callen's too quick, too shallow breaths on his shoulder.

"Is he out?" Deeks asked.

"Yep."

When Sam reached the edge of the corridor, he was stopped by Director Vance. "Agent Hanna, here are his credentials." Sam nodded at Kensi and she took the folder from Vance's hand. "Treat this as you would any other undercover assignment. I don't think I have to tell you that it is critical that you be discreet. Until this is resolved, your lives may still be in danger."

After a short pause, Kensi cheerfully said, "I'll drive."

"Shotgun," Deeks added enthusiastically as all four agents, three walking and one being carried, exited the building.

Vance stood dumfounded, staring at the door (the door that had been left open in their haste and one of the agents had just come back to pull it closed.) "Hetty, you might want to consider scheduling some additional training for your agents on what it means to be discreet." He turned to look at Hetty who was still gazing longingly at the door. Vance watched her for several seconds and then conceded. "Oh, whatever. I'll drive. My rental's just out back."

Hetty smiled smugly as she and Vance exited the building. "I'll call Eric and let him know where we are headed."


	16. Chapter 16

_This __is __to __get __Callen __started __on __his __medical __care. __Just __like __I __am __not __a__" secret__agent," __neither __am __I __a __doctor. __I __know __just __enough __to __sound __really, __really __silly. __So, __again, __this __may __be __a __comedy __for __those __of __you __who __are __in __the __medical __field._

_Thank __you __to __all __who __are __reading __and __reviewing__._

CHAPTER 16 - The ER

On the way to the hospital, the agents familiarized themselves with the information in Callen's file. Sam had Kensi pull in the ER parking lot, rather than let them out at the ambulance drive, so that they could all go in together.

They entered the emergency room through the automatic doors, Sam carrying Callen who was still unconscious. Kensi handed the folder to the receptionist. A few moments later, a woman in scrubs, probably in her mid-forties, came out from behind the receptionist's counter. She smiled and motioned for them to follow her. "My name is Monica. I am one of the nurses assigned to this case. You'll be in room 8, the last door on the right. Would you like a gurney to put him on?"

"No, we're good," Sam responded.

They followed Monica through the double doors, down the hall, and into the examination room. The room had seating for three, a long counter with cabinets and a computer in the corner. In the middle of the room sat a treatment bed. Sam continued to hold Callen while Monica covered the thin black mattress with a sheet, folded a second sheet in half and draped it across the middle of the bed, and then placed a pillow at the head.

Hetty and the director entered the room just as Sam laid his partner on the bed. Vance, Hetty, Kensi took the available seats, Deeks stood in the corner next to Kensi, and of course, Sam claimed his post standing next to Callen.

A tall, young male nurse came into the room. "This is Landon," Monica said. "We are going to change the patient into a gown and then record his vital signs."

Landon fastened a hospital band on Callen's left wrist. "Dr. Lee just arrived. He is looking over Mr. …" he stopped and looked at Callen's wrist band, "Carter's medical history. He'll be in shortly."

Monica began unfastening the buttons of Callen's shirt and Sam reached out to assist her. "Mr. Hanna," Hetty said. "Stop hovering over your partner and let them do their jobs."

"I'm not hovering."

"You're hovering," Deeks and Kensi said in unison. Monica and Landon exchanged smiles.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled, taking his hands off of Callen and stepping back only about four inches.

The nurses then methodically removed Callen's shirt and jeans, draped a hospital gown over him and pulled his arms through the sleeves. "Why don't we leave the gown untied," Monica suggested. "It will make it easier for the doctor to examine him."

"What about his boxers?" Landon asked.

Hetty made a request before Monica had time to answer. "Would it be possible to leave them on?"

"Sure," replied Monica. "We can always remove them later, if the doctor needs us to."

"Thank you. I believe our friend has already endured enough humiliation for one day."

Just as the nurses finished taking readings for Callen's blood pressure, pulse and temperature, the doctor came through the door carrying Callen's medical chart. "Hello. I'm Dr. Lee," he said, addressing the group. "I am sorry I was not available this morning when Dr. Getz called."

"That is quite alright," Hetty said. "We were just glad Nate was able to locate you and that you were willing to meet us."

Dr. Lee now turned his attention to Callen. "Let's see what we have going on here. Vitals?"

Monica picked up her clipboard and read aloud, "BP 120 over 60, pulse 117, temp 102.4."

Dr. Lee stepped up closer to the bed. His eyes narrowed as he observed Callen's shallow breathing. "It said in the chart that he suffered these injuries yesterday?"

"Yes," Hetty began to explain. "He fell yesterday morning and then chose to try to conceal his injuries. By the time I discovered just how sick he was, it had been brought to our attention that his life was being threatened. We were in a quandary. We knew he needed medical attention but were fearful someone would try to harm him if we brought him out of hiding."

"Tell me a little bit about what has been going on with him since the accident." Dr. Lee opened the chart and recorded the information as Hetty and Sam described the timeline of Callen's symptoms. "How long has he been unconscious this time?" he asked, closing the chart and placing it on the counter.

"Just before we left to bring him here; I'd say, close to an hour," Hetty replied.

The doctor moved to the head of the bed and took a pen light out of his shirt pocket. Using his thumb, he gently pushed open Callen's right eyelid and checked the reaction of his pupils to the light. He repeated the process for the left eye. "We need to order a CT scan of his head." Monica stepped over to the computer and entered the order. Dr. Lee put the light away and turned Callen's head to one side, and then the other, studying the injuries to his face.

Next he picked up Callen's right arm, pinched the skin on the back of his hand, and released it. "He is severely dehydrated. We need to get an IV started before he goes for any testing." Monica keyed in the information at the computer to order the IV supplies. Dr. Lee then pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and listened to Callen's heart. Sliding the hospital gown to mid-chest level, he also listened to Callen's lungs. "Do we have a _Pulse-ox_ on hand?"

Landon took a small device from the cabinet and gently clamped it on Callen's left index finger. When he turned on the monitor, they could now hear beeping that corresponded with Callen's pulse rate. After observing the machine's readings for several seconds, Landon reported, "Pulse rate still around 110 but his oxygen level is good. At 97%."

"That's surprising," Dr. Lee said. "I thought his O2 sats would be much lower considering how shallow he is breathing. We'll just keep an eye on it for a little while."

Dr. Lee now moved to examining the scrapes on Callen's hands and right arm. He passively moved Callen's wrists and elbows and shoulders. "Has he complained of his right arm hurting?"

Sam sputtered. "He hasn't complained of anything hurting. He thinks he's _Superman_."

Dr. Lee looked up at Sam and smiled before giving Monica more instructions. "Let's get an x-ray of the right wrist and forearm." After a pause to think, he added, "Since _Superman_ is apparently not inclined to share, let's get a full x-ray of both arms just to be safe."

Just then, Callen's body jerked, his brow tensed, his breathing became more intense, and the beeping of the machine became a bit faster. The doctor looked up at Sam who was staring down at his partner with concern in his eyes. Callen twitched again, this time not as violently.

Hetty rose from her chair and moved a little closer to the bed. "I'm afraid our friend suffers from vivid, recurring nightmares," she said. "In his normal, healthy state, I'm sure he would have already woken up from this one."

Dr. Lee watched as Callen's body slowly relaxed and the beeping returned to the rate it was before. "So this would explain the insomnia listed in his medical history."

Hetty let out a breath. "Yes. I would say insomnia, in his case, is a blessing in disguise." Just then, the door opened and a member of the hospital staff placed the IV supplies on the counter.

After examining Callen's legs, Dr. Lee added an order for an x-ray of the right knee. He then pulled the gown down to Callen's waist, exposing his bruised ribs and his scarred torso. "Add a scan of his chest to the radiology orders."

The doctor palpated Callen's abdomen, stomach and ribs on the left side. As he began examining the right side, Callen flinched and Sam moved back up (four inches) closer to the bed, and placed his hand on Callen's shoulder. Dr. Lee pressed on the area nearer the bruise causing Callen to moan and draw up his left leg. After a moment for Callen to relax, the doctor continued. Callen moaned again and his body tensed. Eyes still closed, he reached up with his left hand, and blindly tried to grasp whatever was causing the pain. Landon stepped up next to Sam and moved Callen's hand away.

When the examination resumed, Callen winced and now both hands made their way up to his ribs. This time he weakly grasped the doctor's hand, trying to move it away from his painful ribs. Landon, once again, moved Callen's hand away, pinning his arm down to the mattress. Dr. Lee held Callen's right arm down with his free hand. Callen groaned a little louder and began to squirm.

Dr. Lee stopped the examination when Callen opened his eyes. Callen blinked a few times and then he stared straight up at Landon with distress in his eyes. His breathing became more irregular and the beeping of the machine sped up. Landon could see that the patient was frightened so he released Callen's arm and stepped back, allowing Sam to come closer to the bedside. Callen's left hand instinctively went back to protecting his sore ribs.

Sam, now with his hands on both of Callen's shoulders, began to try to calm his partner. "It's OK. You're at the hospital. … We're all here. Just relax." Callen's tension eased just a little. "That's it." Still breathing hard, Callen cautiously looked back up at Landon and then slowly over at the doctor.

"I'm Dr. Lee. I'm a friend of Dr. Getz. He has asked me to check you over and see what we need to do to get you well. I need you to place your hands at your side and try to relax." Callen did not move his arm; he just lay staring up at the doctor.

Sam moved Callen's hand away from his ribs, placing in at his side. Callen's gaze now moved to his partner. "G., I don't want to have to hold you down." Just as Sam realized he had used Callen's real name, he heard Hetty clear her throat. Sam continued to try to reason with Callen. "I know it hurts, but you've got to let these people do their jobs."

The doctor resumed the examination. Callen closed his eyes and held his fists tight at his sides, concentrating on controlling his breathing, using every ounce of his energy to avoid making a sound or showing any expression of pain. But when Dr. Lee pressed on the injured ribs, Callen grimaced, and his hands slowly made their way back up to his side. Sam forced Callen's left hand back down to the mattress and Landon moved to the other side of the bed and did the same with his right hand.

Sam knew that it was necessary for the doctor to thoroughly check Callen's injuries but it made him sick to see his partner in this much pain. The beeping of the monitor sped up even more as Callen fought back a scream. He closed his eyes tightly and clinched his teeth against the pain.


	17. Chapter 17

_My __inexperience __almost __got __the __best __of __me. __I __have __not __built __up __my __writing __vocabulary __enough __to __avoid __redundancy __and __this __is __a __little __frustrating __to __me. __I __sort __of __lost__i nterest. __And __then __I __remembered __that __this __is __just __me __trying __something __new __and __to __keep __going __is __the __only __way __I __am __going __to __learn._

_I __welcome __your __input. __Thank __you __for __reading._

CHAPTER 17 - Callen's "thing" about Needles

When the examination of Callen's ribs was complete, each person in the room let out a breath. Sam and Landon released Callen's arms and Dr. Lee pulled the gown back up to his shoulders. Callen lay there for a minute, blinking slowly, focusing on controlling his breathing. Exhausted but still conscious, his body finally relaxed.

The relief was short-lived, however. Dr. Lee leaned over Callen and explained to him what was next. "Your body is extremely low on fluids. Before I go any further in the exam, we need to get an IV started."

Sam shook his head; this was not going to be good. To say Callen did not like needles would be an understatement. Under normal circumstances, Sam would have just teased him about his fear of needles and Callen would have simply gritted his teeth and hoped that it was over before anyone knew how queasy and lightheaded he really was. But today, Sam worried that the trauma and stress of the past few days had worn down Callen's defenses.

Sam immediately knew his fears were warranted when Callen's gaze locked onto the packages of tubing and supplies that Monica was now opening. She moved to Callen's left side and laid the IV prep kit on the bed beside him. He peered down at the supplies, up at Monica, and then over to Sam.

"I can't get you out of this one, Buddy. You're just going to have to bite the bullet and let them do what they have to, G."

Sam looked at Hetty, waiting for his subtle reprimand for addressing Callen by his name. Knowing that this would not be the last time the initial would slip, and that it would probably only further confuse Cullen to be called by a fictitious name, Hetty nodded. "It's alright, Sam. You may use his nickname."

Monica wiped the alcohol swab on the back of Callen's hand and he jerked his hand away. She glanced up at the pulse monitor, now beeping much faster, and then turned and looked at Sam.

Sam shrugged his big shoulders. "My partner sort of has a thing about needles."

"I see that." Monica motioned for Sam to come closer.

Sam placed his hand on the left side of Callen's chest. "Come on, G. You were tough enough to tackle and cuff the _Hulk_ on Monday. You can do this." It felt strange, trying to reassure his, usually stoic partner. But Sam knew that Callen would not be showing pain and fear in front of all these people unless he was extremely sick and disoriented.

Monica applied a little more pressure to Callen's arm to prevent him from moving. "There's going to be a stick." Callen gasped as the needle punctured his skin and then was pulled right back out. "Sorry. The vein collapsed. I'm going to try another vein in your hand."

The needle was inserted again. Callen's entire body flinched and the beeping of the monitor became markedly faster. "I am so sorry." The needle was once again removed. "Your veins are flat because you've gone so long without fluids."

Monica swabbed a spot on the inside of Callen's forearm. He began to shake his head and brought his forearm up to his chest. "No," he whispered between quick breaths. With one hand still on Callen's chest, Sam reached down and forcibly straightened Callen's arm, holding it at his side. Callen reached over with his right hand and made a feeble attempt to push Sam's hand away. Monica signaled, with her eyes, for Landon to intervene and he forced Callen's right arm down to the mattress, as well. Having his arms pinned down only increased Callen's anxiety level.

"I need you to relax," Monica said. "Try to take slow, deep breaths." Callen closed his eyes and relaxed his arms. "That's good." The needle went in. "You're doing great." Then Monica let out a heavy sigh. "Lost it." She attempted to sound calm but was obviously frustrated. "We're going to have to try this again. I'm going to move up to the bend of your elbow."

Sam did not have to hear the monitor to know his partner's pulse rate had increased; he could feel Callen's heart pounding against his palm that was still on his chest. Callen began to try to pull away from the hands that were restraining him, only bringing on a sharp pain in his ribs.

"Give him a few minutes to get his heart rate down," Dr. Lee instructed. "And then make one more attempt in that arm. I'll be right back."

Over the next five minutes, still fearful and short of breath, Callen's heart rate barely budged. Monica attempted to reason with him. "I know this is hard. But it makes it more difficult to find a vein when you are tense. I need you to try to relax."

Dr. Lee returned a short time later with a syringe in his hand. Monica had just removed the IV needle from the crook of Callen's arm; the fourth failed attempt to find a good vein.

Callen suddenly felt dizzy, on the verge of throwing up, and did not notice when the doctor walked around the bed and handed the syringe to Monica. Dr. Lee turned and addressed Hetty and the director. "I would ordinarily be reluctant to sedate a head injury patient. It can mask or sometimes even worsen the symptoms. But in this case, I believe the benefits far outweigh the risks. His body has been stressed for too long and it is critical that we get IV fluids going."

"I trust your judgment," Hetty replied. "Just do what you think is best for him."

Preparing for Monica to administer the sedative, Landon reached across Callen, grasped the draw sheet (the folded sheet underneath Callen), and pulled with both hands. While being rolled onto his right side, Callen let out a yelp and Kensi, Hetty, and Sam all simultaneously said "no!" Landon lowered Callen back over onto his back.

"What happened?" Landon asked, looking down at Callen.

Sam gave Callen's shoulder a quick squeeze. "Don't think he can take laying on his right side. He has a pretty bad bruise on that hip."

"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to catch you off guard. We'll just roll you the other way."

Monica passed the hypodermic needle across to Landon, attempting to conceal it with her hand. But Callen caught a glimpse. His confused stare traveled from the syringe in Landon's hand, up to Landon's eyes. "This will help you sleep," Landon said. "You'll feel better soon."

Words that were intended to reassure the patient, had just the opposite effect. Even in his confused state, Callen picked up on the word "sleep." His heart rate and his panic increased. Not only were people sticking him with needles, they were going to make him sleep.

Reversing roles, Monica reached over Callen, grasped the draw sheet, and pulled him over toward her. Now positioned on his left side, Monica released the sheet. Callen shook his head and then weakly attempted to roll back over onto his back. Sam bent down so that he was face to face with his partner. He placed his hands on Callen's shoulder, applying pressure so that Callen was stabilized on his side. "Look at me. It's OK. Just let them do what they need to do. It'll be over soon."

But Callen's ability to reason was deficient and he was no longer able to mask his emotions. His vulnerability was even more evident now that he was in unfamiliar surroundings, being submitted to procedures that caused him so much stress.

Monica pulled the gown forward, exposing Callen's back. He began to squirm so Sam held down his upper body and Vance and Deeks, stepped up to the bedside and restrained his legs. Callen was exhausted, but he was determined to stay awake. He had to keep those nightmares from finding him. He hated medicine that made him sleep; drugs that trapped him in those nightmares. He could not understand why his partner was letting them do this. Why was Sam not helping him?

Looking straight at Sam's eyes, Callen's breath hitched when Landon slipped the waist of the boxers down, exposing the flesh of Callen's upper hip. Dr. Lee's eyes narrowed when he noted the bruising on Callen's lower back. Landon swabbed Callen's hip with alcohol. When the cold solution touched his skin, Callen gasped and his body jerked. He turned his head and looked behind him, anticipating what was coming next. Sam used his free hand to push the side of Callen's head back down against the pillow.

"No," Callen said frantically as he attempted to free himself from all the hands that were pressing down on him. "Sam, don't let them…" His eyes were fixed on Sam's when the sudden stick of the needle into his flesh brought on another gasp and his entire body tensed. Sam's stomach twisted when his partner stared up at him with a look of both shock and betrayal.

As the medicine was slowly discharged, Callen gasped for air and struggled to move. "No," he whispered between breaths. "Please,… no."

"You need to relax," Landon said, patting Callen's thigh. "This medication is thick. It won't go in if the muscle is all tensed up."

"Take a deep breath," Monica said.

But Callen was determined not to be a willing subject. He struggled even more, causing those who were subduing him to apply more pressure. He tried once again to look back behind him but Sam's large hand only pressed down harder on the side of his head, forcing his head down to the pillow. "No. Please don't… Don't make … me sleep. Stop." Landon continued to slowly depress the plunger of the syringe. "No. … I don't want it. … Please … Don't make … me sleep."

Callen's vision was already becoming blurry when Landon finished administering the medicine and removed the needle from his flesh. Callen looked groggily at Sam and begged softly, "I don't want it. … Take it out. … Make them take … it out." With each second that passed, it was becoming more difficult for him to move. Sam, Vance and Deeks released their grasp when Callen's body finally relaxed. Callen blinked owlishly at Sam. His eyelids felt so heavy. "Sam," he whispered.

Callen could hear what was going on in the room but, no matter how hard he tried, he could not make his body move. Every few seconds, he would force his eyes to open, seeing Sam's face each time. He was struggling to stay awake; determined to fight off those nightmares.

Callen sucked in a shallow breath and shuttered when he felt the waistband of his boxers being pulled down even further so that his entire hip was exposed. Even in his drowsy state, his eyes were suddenly filled with distress. Sam rubbed Callen's upper arm. "They're not going to take your shorts off, G. Dr. Lee is just checking out the bruise back there." Callen swallowed and the look of distress began to dissipate.

After looking at the black, blue and bright red marks on Callen's hip, Dr. Lee said to Monica, "We need a scan of the pelvis; the right hip in particular."

All eyes still staring down at the severely bruised area, Vance asked, "Agent Hanna, what caused this?"

"His weapon was holstered in back. He landed on it when he fell."

Dr. Lee slid the waistband of the boxers back into place and Monica and Landon used the draw sheet to turn Callen onto his back. Callen was too out of it to notice that Monica had moved to the other side of the bed and was preparing to start the IV in the right arm. He looked down at his arm when she swabbed the crook of his elbow with alcohol. He wanted to pull his arm away but his body would just not move.

When the needle pierced his skin, Monica glanced up to see how Callen was doing. She was overcome with sympathy when she saw his blue eyes staring up at her, pleading for her to stop. "Please don't look at me that way," she said softly.

Sam used the palm of his hand to shield Callen's eyes while turning his face away from Monica. "We're going to have to try this again," Monica said as she removed the needle and swabbed a new area on the inside of his forearm. Callen began to pant and the beeping of the pulse monitor picked up. Even with his face shielded, it was apparent that he was in distress.

Hetty could hardly bare to watch him being stuck over and over. She came up to the side of the bed, next to Sam, and wrapped her tiny hands around Callen's left hand. His breathing calmed.

"Monica, give it three more tries," Dr. Lee said. "If there's still no success, let's prep him for a subclavian line."

Monica looked up at the doctor and nodded. Then she used her index finger to tap the skin on Callen's forearm. "Try to take a deep breath." When she inserted the needle Callen weakly gripped Hetty's hand. Sam, still using his hand to block Callen's view, felt his partner's eyes close tightly. Monica shook her head. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm going to move down to your hand."

Monica prepped the area on the back of the Callen's hand and then inserted the needle. Callen took in a small, quick breath and grimaced, his fingers lightly folding around Hetty's hand. "That's it," Monica said. "Just relax… I think we got it." All eyes were on Monica, waiting for the final verdict. "That's it. No more sticks." There was a unanimous sigh of relief.

Sam shook his head and removed his hand that had been shielding Callen's eyes. "You know G, only someone who hates needles as bad as you would have to get stuck seven times." Hetty smiled at her big, overprotective agent who had been counting the needle sticks; monitoring his partner as usual.

Callen closed his eyes in relief that the torture was over for now. His breathing was still quick and shallow but not as distressed. Monica applied tape to Callen's hand to secure the needle and began connecting the tubing for the IV. Callen forced his eyes open once more. Then they slid shut and Hetty felt his hand go limp in hers.


	18. Chapter 18

_Callen __is __asleep, __throughout __this __next __chapter, __while __they __determine __what __is __wrong __with __him __and __how __to __treat __him. __Hope __it __is __not __too __"hospitally."_

_Thank __you __for __reading __and __for __reviewing._

CHAPTER 18 - A "Picture" from Callen's Past

Two attendants were waiting outside the examination room, ready to take Callen for the x-rays and CT scans that Dr. Lee had ordered. Callen was sleeping soundly; a combination of the sedative and sheer exhaustion. The _Pulse-ox_ meter was removed from his finger and he was transferred to a gurney and wheeled to radiology. Sam followed close behind, for security purposes, of course.

Landon brought a couple of stools into the examination room where Hetty, Vance, Kensi and Deeks were waiting. He returned with some bottled water and directed Kensi and Deeks to the nearest snack machine.

A short time later, the Director of Nursing paid Vance and Hetty a visit. She explained the protocol for providing services to a patient who is in protective custody. It was the hospital's policy to limit the number of staff directly involved in that patient's care. She had already adjusted the fourth floor schedule so that Monica and Landon would have Callen ("Mr. Carter") on their caseloads for at least the next twenty-four hours. Monica had agreed to work a double shift and Landon would relieve her in the morning at seven. Hetty thanked her for the accommodations and for her attention to the patient's safety.

A little more than an hour had passed when the radiology attendants returned to the examination room with Callen. As they transferred him back to the treatment bed Hetty asked, "Any problems, Mr. Hanna?"

"Slept through the whole thing."

"Good."

Sam pulled the unoccupied stool up next to the head of the bed and sat down. Knowing that his partner was getting the medical attention he needed, and was safe for the time being, he finally allowed himself to relax. Not enough sleep for two nights in a row and emotionally drained, he was in need of some rest. Sam laid one forearm on the edge of the bed and leaned over, resting his head on his arm.

Sam sat up, about thirty minutes later, when Monica came to take Callen's temperature, pulse, and blood pressure. She was checking his IV when the doctor returned. Dr. Lee laid the medical chart on the counter. "Landon has gone down to pick up the report from the radiologist." The doctor stepped up to the bed, pulled Callen's gown down off of his shoulders, and used his stethescope to listen to the patient's heart and lungs. "How is he doing?"

"He's been sleeping since we administered the sedative," Monica responded. "But his pulse rate is still too high and his temp has only dropped two tenths."

The doctor removed the stethoscope from his ears and draped it around his neck. "I believe that the fever is secondary to dehydration. I had hoped that he would have already responded to the IV fluids." He put Callen's gown back in place. "If his temperature does not drop over the next several hours, I may need to consider another contributing factor. I really don't want to submit him to the trauma of drawing blood unless I have to. We'll just watch him for now."

"They are getting a room ready for him on four," Monica reported. "Do you want me to go ahead and enter the nursing orders while we are waiting on Landon?"

"That would be good. Monitor his temperature and call me if it goes any higher. In addition to the IV, I would like to push fluids every time he is awake. Encourage him to eat, as well. Give him something for nausea PRN." There was a pause while Callen moaned and stirred briefly.

"Continue with the meds for fever?" Monica asked.

"Yes. Every four hours, intravenously. And I want him sedated every four hours. Continue with the same dosage through the night and then cut back to point five ccs in the morning." Landon entered the room and handed a folder and some x-ray films to the doctor. "I may need to add to the orders, depending on what we find out from this report."

Dr. Lee clipped several x-ray films onto a screen and flipped the light on. He continued to speak while reading the contents of the folder. "The scan of his head confirms the concussion. The head injury, and the fact that he is so dehydrated, would explain the confusion, frequent episodes of unconsciousness, and the mood swings that you all described earlier." Dr. Lee turned to the next page. "The right knee is good …" he flipped another page. "Oh, here we go … fractured pelvis … with significant bruising. It's been …" he looked up at the clock, "less than forty-eight hours? I'd say it's going to look a lot worse before it gets better."

All eyes went to Callen when he groaned and brought his right arm up as if shielding his face. He grimaced and then mumbled several words in Russian before slowly lowering his arm to his side.

Still watching Callen, Hetty asked, "If I remember correctly, there is no treatment for a broken pelvis, is there?"

"You are right. It's just going to take time and rest; that would be for the fractured pelvis and the head injury. He's going to have to remain still and quiet for several weeks."

It was as if the doctor had set off a chain reaction by his last statement. "Oh, goody," Hetty said sarcastically. Kensi mumbled, "Yeah, right," and Sam just sputtered.

Dr. Lee peered up from the folder in his hand. "I gather _Superman_ is not fond of being still and quiet." The doctor turned the page and continued reading. "The scan shows two broken ribs and bruising of the right lung and the diaphragm muscle. Make that four to six weeks of rest. The radiologist is of the opinion that this section of his ribcage was already structurally compromised by one of the gunshot wounds he received last year. He is recommending an orthopedic consult after the patient has healed."

"You mean there is a chance he will need surgery?" Hetty asked.

"Of course the specialist would make that determination. But yes, it is likely he will need surgery to reinforce this area; to protect his lungs and other organs from future injury."

Sam shook his head. "He'll never agree to it."

"That could very well be the reason he has not already undergone reconstructive surgery. I cannot imagine that this was not recommended to him following his shooting. He may have simply refused."

"He was in such a hurry to return to work," Hetty said thoughtfully.

Dr. Lee walked over to the x-ray screen and studied the films. "He has a hairline fracture of his right wrist. Since the bone is not displaced, we will hold off on casting him until the IV is removed."

Sam buried his face in his palms. He felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. "What is it Sam?" Hetty asked.

Sam lowered his hands and stared at Callen. "I twisted his arms up behind his back this morning."

Dr. Lee could see the concern in Sam's eyes. "This is a Colles' fracture; an injury that is commonly sustained when someone falls and reaches forward to catch themselves, not from having the arm pulled or twisted."

Still staring at his partner, Sam shook his head. "But he had already fallen. I yanked his arms up behind him after his arm was already broken."

Hetty stepped up next to Sam and placed her hand on his arm. "Sam, this is not your fault. You were just trying to get him off the street – keep him safe."

"He was fighting us, Sam," Kensi added. "He was out of his head. We had to bring him back so we could get him some help." These words were of little consolation to Sam. He lowered his head, remembering the pain and fear he had seen in his friend's eyes over the past two days.

Dr. Lee studied the x-rays for several more seconds and then looked back at the report he was holding. "Miss Lange, do you have access to any medical records prior to his shooting? Any information on how he has sustained so many injuries? He has had more broken bones than someone should in ten lifetimes."

"I'm afraid that his line of work is rather hazardous," Hetty explained.

"Based on the calcification, the radiologist has determined that only of few of these have occurred as an adult. Almost all are from childhood: numerous rib fractures, a broken clavicle, three fractures to the right arm and two to the left. And it appears that he did not receive adequate medical attention for two of the fractures to his right arm; they were not set properly."

The room was suddenly still and quiet. Hetty, overcome with guilt, turned away from Callen. _Someone __should __have __protected __him_, she thought. Kensi was stunned. She could only imagine the secrets that Callen carried with him. Deeks closed his eyes. He knew how it felt to be abused by the hands that were supposed to care for you. But he knew for Callen, there was no one to go to for refuge and comfort; he had gone through this alone.

Sam was so outraged that he could hardly breathe. "How could someone do that to him?" he asked. "He was just a little kid?"

Dr. Lee could see that everyone in the room was shaken. "I'm sorry. I probably should not have discussed this openly. I had assumed that something of this significance would have been part of his records."

"He was orphaned at age five," Vance explained. "More than three dozen orphanages and foster homes. It's just not something he ever talks about."

Hetty turned back around to face Callen. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she reached out and gently caressed Callen's face with the back of her hand. "I am so sorry, my dear boy."

The room was once again silent. All eyes were on Callen. The scrapes on his arms and face, and the newly formed bruises from all the needle sticks he had endured, were now even more vivid against the white sheets and his pale skin. His lips were slightly parted, taking in quick puffs of air. He looked so small and helpless as he slept.


	19. Chapter 19

_A __tiny __little __chapter __that __may __warrant __a __"corny__alert." __I __toyed __with __the __idea __of __deleting __this __chapter __but __I __just __couldn't __get __the __scene __out __of __my __head. __(It's __a __mother __thing, __I __guess.) __I __love __Hetty __and __her __relationship __with __the __team, __particularly __Callen._

_Thank __you __again __for __all __of __your __kind __reviews __and __messages. __You __helped __me __get __out __of __my __slump __and __take __the __risk __of __holding __on __to __this __chapter._

CHAPTER 19 - A Lullaby for Callen

Callen was taken to a private room on the fourth floor. Landon and Monica transferred him to his hospital bed and covered him with a sheet and blanket. Sam refrained from helping as much as he wanted to, requiring only two reminders from Hetty, not to hover. Monica remained in the room to plug in the IV machine, check the placement of the needle in Callen's hand, and take and record his vital signs.

Director Vance had received a phone call and was in the hall getting an update on the case. Deeks and Kensi found a place on the vinyl couch and Hetty was seated on one of the chairs against the wall. There was a sudden, loud screeching sound as Sam dragged one of the empty chairs right up against the left side of Callen's bed.

Hetty shook her head and Deeks smirked. Sam looked up. "What?"

Kensi rolled her eyes at Sam. "What, a big guy like you couldn't have picked that up?"

"Sorry. Didn't think it would be so noisy."

Monica removed the blood pressure cuff form Callen's arm and raised the rail on the right side of his bed. "I will be on duty until seven in the morning. Please do not hesitate to call if you need anything. The call button is right here." She pointed to one of the control buttons on the bedrail. Now looking at Sam, she said, "Any time you are not going to be right there by his side, that rail needs to be raised. The last thing he needs is to fall out of the bed."

Looking down at the floor, Kensi mumbled, "Don't think there's any danger of him falling out while Sam's around." Sam shot her a fake smile. Hetty was secretly glad that at least a certain degree of normalcy had returned to the team.

Just then, Callen moaned and lightly adjusted his position. Monica looked down at her watch. "He'll be due for another sedative in about an hour."

Vance came through the door as Monica was leaving. "What was all that noise a minute ago?"

"Just one of our agents rearranging the furniture," Hetty replied. "Do you have any news for us, Leon?"

The director sat down in the last available chair. Callen began to weakly thrash his arms and legs and Vance waited until he was still to respond. "Well, it seems Mr. Beale and Miss Jones may have been on to something. I just got through talking to the chief investigator of our task force, who is now convinced that the FBI has the wrong guy in custody. This Davis guy is no angel, by any means, but they are almost certain he was set-up."

"Who would do this?" Kensi asked.

"Why would someone do this?" Deeks questioned, not really expecting an answer.

"Hopefully we will know more soon," Vance replied. "The challenge is going to be convincing the FBI to redirect their search. Until the Bureau is on board with our conspiracy theory, the NCIS task force may be calling on your team to assist." Just then, Callen grimaced, drew up his left leg and groaned. When he stopped moving, Vance got up from his chair. "Well, I have to catch a flight back to D.C. Hetty, do you need me to take you back to the office?"

"No thank you, Leon. I'll catch a ride with the agents in a little while."

Vance reached across the bed and shook hands with Sam. He paused a moment, looking down at Callen. "Hetty, keep me updated on his condition."

"I will, Leon." Hetty, Kensi and Deeks rose from their seats and met Vance at the door. Hetty reached up to shake his hand and suddenly, Callen started thrashing and moaning. His eyes opened. He looked frightened, his glassy eyes staring at whatever he was visualizing in his dream. His voice was tender but clearly distressed as he began speaking words in Russian. Tears were now streaming down his face. Sam looked over to Hetty. He was at a loss for what to do.

Sam jumped up from his chair and moved out of the way, joining the others at the door and Hetty quickly took his place at Callen's side. She began gently stroking the side of his face with her tiny fingers. "Shh, Shh, Shh." Then she whispered something to Callen in Russian, "_it__'__s __alright. __I __am __here __now.__" __H_e became quiet. Hetty continued to caress his head and face while a series of rhythmic Russian phrases rolled off her tongue.

Kensi, Sam, and Deeks stood at the door with the director, taken back by what they were witnessing. "It's a lullaby," Vance said softly. Hetty continued reciting the words to the song until Callen's breathing calmed and he became still. Vance lowered his head. "He was calling for help; calling for his mother to come find him."

Callen closed his eyes. Hetty gently wiped the tears from his face. She took his left hand in both of hers and whispered, "I'm here, my dear boy; my dear sweet child."


	20. Chapter 20

_This __was __supposed __to __be __a __short __chapter __and __then __I __realized, __like __on __one __of __my __others, __I __had __to __get __everything __wrapped __up. __I __added __a __lot, __took __out __some, __added __a __little__...__well, __you __get __the __picture._

_Thank __you __for __reviewing._

CHAPTER 20 - Changing of the Guard

Hetty stood next to Callen, holding his hand, until Monica returned to administer his next round of medication. The pain in his ribs and hip was excruciating when he was rolled onto his side, but he was too weak to cry out. By the time he was finally able to catch his breath, Monica had already lowered his boxers and was swabbing his hip with alcohol. Callen looked into Hetty's eyes. "No more," he whispered.

"I'm sorry. The doctor said this is what you need." He felt the needle pierce his skin and the medicine being discharged into his muscle. Still looking at Hetty, Callen let out a faint whimper. It was apparent that the distress in his eyes was not caused from the needle stick, but from the dread of what was about to happen to his body and his mind. He had been desperately trying to pull himself up out of the deep black pit; to distance himself from those haunting dreams. He could not understand why Hetty and Sam would allow them do this to him. Why would they not just leave him alone? Within seconds, he was being dragged back down into the darkness.

No one wanted to leave Callen. But Hetty mandated that only one person at a time would stay at the hospital; insisting they all needed sleep. Sam's objections were ignored and Kensi was assigned the first shift. Hetty asked Sam to drive her and Deeks back to headquarters in Kensi's car. She ordered him to get something to eat, clean up, and sleep at least a couple of hours before relieving Kensi. When Sam continued to grumble about being temporarily barred from the hospital, Hetty threatened to have Eric keep an eye on surveillance feeds and notify her if he tried to sneak back early. Sam finally submitted, wondering if his tiny boss would go so far as to try to take away his clothes to confine him to the OSP center.

Kensi was apprehensive about being left alone with Callen, afraid she would not be able to calm him if he experienced another meltdown. She was fairly confident, though, that he would be out for a while, so she curled up on the vinyl couch and closed her eyes.

A couple of hours had passed when Kensi opened her eyes, sensing a change in Callen's breathing. She leaned forward and peered around the IV machine. He was awake and staring straight ahead. She got up and went to the bedside. "Callen?" He slowly turned his head toward her. He looked so lost. She did not recognize the man staring up at her. His eyes were dark, with only a small rim of blue around his pupils. "How do you feel?" she asked. "Do you need anything?" Callen just swallowed and turned his head to face forward. Kensi wandered if he knew where he was and what was going on, or if he even recognized her.

She got her answer a few seconds later when the door opened and Monica entered the room. Callen turned his head toward the nurse and, in an instant, his brow tensed and his breathing became faster. He raised his head off of the pillow, cautiously peered down at Monica's right hand, and then her left. "No needle," she assured. "Not this time. Just here to check on you." Callen relaxed his head back down to the pillow. Kensi knew that, at least for now, Callen was very much aware of who they were and what was going on.

By the time Monica finished taking his blood pressure, Callen was asleep. "Well that didn't last long," Kensi commented.

"I'm surprised he was awake at all. He's fighting sleep. Strong willed, isn't he?" Monica said while placing the thermometer in his ear.

"That's a nice way of putting it."

Monica's smile melted away when she looked down at the thermometer reading. "It's still pretty high. I'm going to bring in a Styrofoam pitcher of ice. Next time he wakes up, see if you can get him to eat some ice chips. There are cups and spoons on the bedside table." Kensi agreed to try. When Monica finished up her duties and had brought in the pitcher of ice, Kensi returned to her curled up position on the couch.

A little more than an hour later, Sam entered the hospital room, smelling all baby fresh, and carrying a bag of clothes and some other items that Hetty had sent for Callen. "How is he?" he asked, while putting the bag in the closet.

"About the same, I guess. The nurse said he's still running fever. She wants us to try to get him to eat some ice chips each time he wakes up."

"Any more nightmares?"

"Not like before. He's just restless every now and then."

Sam walked around to Callen's left side and stared down at him. "He hates this. I mean, not just being hurt, but being drugged."

"Yeah, I know." Kensi paused. "Sam, is he going to be Okay?"

"He survived being shot full of holes." Sam continued to study his partner.

"That's not what I'm talking about. Is he going to be Okay?" Sam did not respond. "He just seems so sad; like he's lost."

"He's spent his whole life lost. He just survives." After a pause, Sam reached across the bed and handed Kensi her car keys. "It's in lot C, third row. Drive safe and go get some real sleep. Hetty's orders."

"Okay. Either me or Deeks will relieve you sometime tomorrow morning."

"Kenz, it is tomorrow morning."

"Well, then later this morning."

Sam had no idea how long he had been standing over Callen when Monica brought in the next set of injections and some extra pillows. "We are reducing his medication. He'll still be extremely groggy but should wake up as it wears off each time." She gave Callen the medication for his fever through his IV and then asked Sam to help her turn him over for the shot in his hip. Sam bent over and rolled Callen toward him, onto his left side, causing him to startle from the sudden movement. His eyes were filled with panic the instant they opened and he grabbed onto the front of Sam's t-shirt with his left hand, pulling himself upward and Sam even lower.

The sedative had been administered before Callen had a chance to become fully oriented to what was being done to him. Still maintaining his grip of Sam's collar, his face practically buried in Sam's chest, Callen reached up with his right hand and weakly grasped another handful of Sam's shirt.

"Can you hold him on his side while I place these pillows?" Monica asked.

"I don't think he's going anywhere."

"I'm going to prop him on his side for a while. He's been pretty much flat on his back since he arrived and that puts him at risk for respiratory complications." Monica placed one pillow between Callen's knees and wedged another between his back and the mattress, so that he was now supported on his side. "Here's an extra pillow to put in front of him, if he ever decides to let go of your t-shirt. Just rest his right arm on the pillow."

It wasn't long before Sam felt Callen's erratic breathing calm to soft panting and Cellen's fingers begin to lose their grip of his shirt. Callen let go and lowered the side of his head to his pillow. Sam was now able to stand up straight and was surprised to see that his partner's eyes were still open. He positioned the pillow in front of Callen and then placed his arm on it, as instructed. "They want you on your side for a while."

Callen looked up at Sam. "Why did you … make me come?" His voice was weak and gravelly.

"You were in serious shape when we got you here. Bringing you to the hospital probably saved your life."

"What does it matter?" Callen mumbled.

"G. You could have died."

"You should have let me."

"What did you just say?" Sam's tone was tense. Callen averted his gaze from Sam's. Sam grasped his partner's face and forced his face up toward his. "I better not ever hear you say something like that again." Callen closed his eyes. "Do you hear me?"

Callen swallowed hard and Sam could see moisture accumulating in the corners of his closed eyes. He released Callen's face. "I'm sorry, G." He touched Callen's shoulder only to have it weakly brushed away. "I'm sorry I snapped at you." Callen moved the pillow up to shield his face. "I know you're all drugged up. You didn't mean it that way." But the only thing that made Sam feel worse than losing his temper with his partner, was the realization that Callen probably really did mean what he said. He had lost the will to fight.

Landon began his shift at seven and came to Callen's room to take vital signs, hang a new IV bag, and to reposition the patient onto his back. When the pillow was removed from in front of Callen's face, his droopy eyes were blinking slowly. He was awake but somehow disconnected.

A short time later, Sam helped Landon clean Callen up and change out his gown and boxers. Callen should have been fighting mad at being washed off and his clothes changed. Instead, he was passive, avoiding eye contact, never making a sound. Except for the occasional grimace from the pain of being moved around, he remained virtually expressionless.

Landon poured some ice in a cup and used a plastic spoon to offer some to Callen. But he refused. Landon looked at Sam and shrugged his shoulders. He placed the cup back on the table and left to tend to his other duties.

Landon returned when it was time for the next injection. "How many more of these does he have to have?" Sam asked, while turning Callen onto his side.

"At least until the end of the day. When Dr. Lee finishes up at his office this evening, he will come by and reevaluate."

Callen felt the needle go in and began to shake his head. Still supporting Callen on his side, Sam leaned down. "I know you're tired of this. But you'll make it through this, G. You always do."

Within seconds, Callen began to experience that familiar floating sensation caused by the medication. His vision became fussy … he felt a fluttering in his chest and his fingers tingled … there was that strange smell and that bad taste in his mouth … and now his eyelids were too heavy to keep open any longer.

An hour later, Callen barely roused while being repositioned to his back. Landon checked his blood pressure and temperature.

"He's still got fever, doesn't he?" Sam asked.

"Yes. It's staying around 101. He's been given enough fluid that it should be down already. I think it would help if he'd just drink something. If his fever hasn't dropped by the time the doctor makes rounds tonight, he'll probably have them draw blood for a workup. And if his kidneys haven't functioned, he'll write orders for them to catheterize him."

"Well, that should pretty much send him over the edge."

"He's already been stressed so much, even with the sedative. I hope something changes soon," Landon said as he finished up in the room.

Sam was standing, gazing out the window when his phone rang. It was Hetty. "Mr. Hanna, there have been some major developments in our case. I have you on speaker so that Mr. Beale can fill you in."

"Sam," Eric said, trying to control the excitement he was feeling. "It was all a set up."

"I know. Vance told us. They think someone tried to make Davis look good for the shooting."

"No. I mean yes. But it's bigger than that. We are about 90% sure that someone in the CIA has been leaking the information on Callen. We don't know who but the list is short. Our task force has advised us that this person is most likely still in, or near Los Angeles."

"Mr. Hanna," Hetty cut in. "We need all hands on deck. They are requesting that we be ready to assist if they determine the suspect is in our vicinity. Kensi is picking you up on her way in. She should be there within the next hour."

"But what about G.? We can't leave him by himself."

"I've taken care of that. I have called in a favor from LAPD. They are sending an officer to sit with Mr. Callen. I have already notified the hospital of this change. I know it's not ideal but at least he will be safe. We need everyone here, armed and ready." Sam did not respond. "Mr. Hanna? Did you hear me?"

"Yes, I heard you," Sam said gruffly.

Hetty's tone was now tender. "You know I would not ask you to leave him with a stranger if there was another option. But we are already down one agent. Mr. Hanna, we may finally have an opportunity to end this."

"I understand."

Sam hung up the phone and turned to look at Callen. He felt an overwhelming mixture of relief and dread: relief that they might be close to taking out the person who tried to kill Callen, and dread at the thought of losing G. as a partner when all this was over.

Kensi arrived, escorted by the officer assigned to guard Callen and found Sam pacing the floor. She could see that he was on edge. "Sam, this is Officer Taylor. I have already introduced him to the nurse. Taylor has photos of Dr. Lee and Monica, as well. These are the only three members of the hospital staff that will be allowed in the room." Kensi paused and looked at her sleeping senior agent. "I see he's still in la la land. So does he know yet that we are leaving him?"

"No. I think maybe you should tell him." Guilt washed over Sam, thinking about how he had snapped at his partner earlier.

"Me? Why me?"

"I think he's still mad at me."

"What did you do?"

"I sort of yelled at him."

"Why would you yell at him?"

"Not right now, Kenz. Just do it … please."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Fine. Make me do your dirty work." Kensi shook Callen's shoulders. "Hey." Callen raised his eyebrows. "Hey." She shook him harder and this time he forced his eyes open. "Can you hear me?" Callen gave her a weak nod. "They've called us in. We have to go to work." Callen squinted up at Kensi. "The case is really hot. We are close to finding the scum bag that took a shot at you and they may need us to go after him. This is Officer Taylor," Kensi said pointing up at the man in uniform. "He's going to make sure you are safe while Sam and I are gone." Callen simply lowered his eyes.

Kensi was confused. She looked up at Sam for some kind of indication as to why Callen was now despondent. "I'll tell you later," Sam said.

Kensi put her arm on Callen's shoulder. "Did you understand what I just said?" Without looking up, Callen nodded slowly.

Sam walked around to the other side of the bed and addressed the officer. "Don't let anyone in if they are not on your list. Since they are limiting who is allowed into the room, the nurse may need your help when it's time to turn him. He probably will not ask for anything to drink. But if he does, there's water and ice chips on the table." Sam placed his palm on the top of Callen's head. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"We need to go, Sam," Kensi said. "That is unless you still need to give the officer a list of contact numbers and a feeding and burping schedule."

"Very funny," Sam barked, as he and Kensi left for headquarters.


	21. Chapter 21

_Hit __a __little__" bump" __of __discouragement __but __found __th__e __support __I __needed __from __some __of __the __readers. __Thanks __for __reminding __me __that __this __is __just __for __fun. __I __do __not __have __the __time __during __my __break __from __"real __life" __to __adequately __research __all __areas __of __the __story. __Just __writing __down __all __the __"pretend" __stuff __in __my __head._

_I __appreciate __your __reviews, __comments __and __suggestions._

CHAPTER 21 - Unraveled

The team assembled in the ops room, going through the information gathered on the potential suspects. With input from the FBI and the CIA, Nell and Eric had narrowed the list. Late last night, Eric had notified the task force of a person of interest who might have ties to Callen. Continuing with their research, Nell and Eric had come up with two more names early this morning. Eric had just sent a fourth possibility to the task force when he got a call from the CIA. "They have a hit!" he exclaimed. "Hetty, CIA. Bringing them up." The computer geek spun his chair around and scooted over to another computer.

A moment later, a man dressed in a dark suite appeared on the big screen. "Good afternoon, Miss Lange. How have you been?"

"I'm afraid not so well the past few days, Mr. Hamilton. It seems someone is bent on destroying one of my agents."

"Yes, that would be Sherman Sykes. His was one of the names supplied by your analysts this morning. Since beginning this investigation, we have pulled on every loose thread we could get our hands on. And when we pulled on this thread, the whole thing seemed to come unraveled."

"How is this man connected with Agent Callen?" Hetty asked, sounding calm and businesslike despite her racing heart.

"Sherman Sykes worked a case with Agent Callen, back when they were both with the DEA. Sykes was a young computer expert. Because of his skills in surveillance, the DEA would occasionally put him in the field working undercover. Callen and Sykes infiltrated one of the largest drug rings in the country at that time. Using the information gained by Callen and Sykes, the DEA determined that a hanger at a private airport was being used to store drugs set for shipment. Another source indicated that a substantial amount of drug money was stashed in the hangar as well."

"By substantial, you mean…?" Hetty inquired.

"A little more than a million." Hamilton continued. "Sykes and Callen were present when the site was secured. The drugs were found just as predicted. However, there was a significant discrepancy between the amount of cash reported to have been on the premises and the actual amount seized. So the FBI was called in to investigate."

"They thought Callen or Sykes might have been responsible for steeling some of the money?" Hetty asked.

"Right. But the source was a drug dealer who was apparently attempting to arrange a plea agreement. So his story was almost immediately discounted. Sykes worked for several more months as an undercover agent and then went back to his original job, developing computer programs to safeguard the government's classified data banks. Two years ago, he was hired by the CIA in a similar capacity and is now one of our top experts in surveillance and data analysis.

"So what is the connection between Mr. Sykes and our current case?"

"The FBI was revisiting an old case and found a similar situation, where the money seized did not match up with what was reported. Sykes' name popped up again. Only this time the source was an undercover police officer. A month ago, when the FBI began to dig around, this officer had mysteriously disappeared. This led them to reopen the DEA case that Sykes worked with Callen. They now suspect that Sykes altered Agent Callen's report to match his, falsifying the amount of money that was found."

"How could he get by with this without Callen knowing?" Kensi asked. "Didn't they work in the same office?"

"Because Agent Callen is fluent in Russian, he was frequently loaned out to the CIA for special operations. He was scheduled to leave for Russia the very next day; an assignment that lasted for almost nine months. This would have given Sykes the perfect opportunity to tamper with Callen's report. Callen would have probably never had a reason to look at this report again."

"So Sykes found out the FBI was reinvestigating the case." Hetty said. "That's what set this whole thing in motion?"

"Yes. We now believe that Sykes was able to access information concerning his own investigation, and knew that the FBI was close to calling Agent Callen in for questioning."

"If G. was removed from the picture, no one but Sykes would ever really know what happened," Sam said as if thinking out loud.

"The problem with just killing your agent off is that Sykes would automatically become a prime suspect, unless …"

"Unless he could come up with an elaborate plan to pin the murder on someone else," Nell said. Everyone turned and peered at Nell. "Sorry," she said, shrugging her shoulders innocently.

"So where is this dirt bag right now?" Sam asked impatiently.

"Your task force is of the opinion that he is still in your area, under an assumed name. He's been hacking into various systems. It appears that he has been searching for Agent Callen. Next time he logs on, we should be able to pinpoint his location." Hamilton paused. "Miss Lange, we will notify you as soon as we have something definitive. If he is still in Los Angeles, will your team be ready to assist?"

"Of that you can be certain," Hetty said. "We are all eager to end this."

Kensi, Deeks, and Sam went down to the bullpen. Deeks sat at his desk, pretending to be interested in something he had pulled up on his laptop. Kensi sorted through a large box of items Hetty had recently confiscated from their work area; things that Hetty had determined were not conducive to a good working environment. (Once again, almost all of the items were Kensi's treasures.) Sam just paced.

After about the hundredth time Hetty watched Sam walk back and forth, she stepped into the bullpen. "Mr. Hanna. Would you please find something to do before you wear a rut in my floor?"

Sam plopped down in his office chair. "Hetty. Can't I just wait at the hospital? Kensi could swing by and get me if they call us."

"Mr. Hanna. What if they determine the suspect's position to be in the opposite direction? You know, very well, that backtracking would cost us valuable time."

Sam crossed his arms and began swiveling his chair from side to side. "This is just taking too long."

Hetty walked closer to where Sam was sitting. "I know you are worried about your partner. But he's in good hands." Sam looked down and sighed. "How was he when you last saw him?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "I've never seen him like this. I think he's given up."

Hetty placed her hand on Sam's shoulder and he stopped turning his chair. "You'll have to remember that he is heavily medicated. This would certainly alter his ability to reason."

Sam looked into Hetty's eyes. She could see his fear. "I'll put in another call to Nate when this is over."

The seconds seemed to creep by while they waited for an update; Deeks throwing paper balls into the trashcan, Kensi searching through drawers hoping to find a stash of _Ho __Ho's _or _peanut __butter __cups_, and Sam, once again, pacing. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. Then suddenly they were startled by Eric's shrill whistle.

"They found him!" Eric yelled from the balcony. "He's about forty minutes southeast of us. Using the name, Norman Wiley. Nell is uploading his photo and address to your phones."

Sam, Deeks, and Kensi jumped up, put there earwigs in, and grabbed their weapons. "My car," Sam said as they darted toward the exit.

Hetty made her way back up to the ops room, where she could oversee the operation. Sykes had apparently chosen his current location based on the absence of security cameras. So Eric and Nell were going to be dependent on audio form their agents to monitor the events as they unfolded.

Less than an hour later, Hetty's heart almost jumped out of her chest when she heard Sam's voice. "Hetty, we got him."

Hetty strolled to her office, fighting the urge to do a little victory dance. After making the appropriate calls to Vance, the CIA and the FBI, Hetty just sat for a few minutes. She was overcome with a sense of pride. Her information analysts had played a key role in solving the case and her agents had successfully carried out their operation. Hetty opened her desk drawer and took out Callen's shield. Slowly rubbing her thumb along the metal, her heart was now heavy. Today, they may have been successful in saving Callen's life, but they were not able to salvage his purpose for life.

Hetty returned the shield to the drawer and called the ops room. "Mr. Beale. What is the status of our agents?"

"They are still on the scene. The FBI is in route. They're holding Sykes until the FBI arrives to take him into custody."

"Please let them know I will meet them at the hospital." As Hetty got into her car, she had to smile a little. She had a mental image of the suspect cuffed and gagged, awaiting the FBI's arrival, surrounded by Sam, Kensi, and Deeks, all with guns drawn.

Callen was sleeping when Hetty entered his room. She thanked Officer Taylor for his assistance, dismissed him and then just stood at Callen's side for a moment. Then she gently ran her hand through his hair and her thumb down the side of his face and across his dry, bruised lip. She leaned in closer and, speaking in Russian, said, "My dear boy, it is over." Callen's eyes flickered open. Hetty described, to her groggy agent, the events of the day and how the case had been solved and that the suspect was in custody.

A short time later, Hetty received a call from Vance. There had been an emergency meeting of the NCIS security committee and he needed to update her.

With the phone still to her ear, she let out a big sigh. "Leon, I am standing right beside someone whom I think will be interested in hearing what you just told me. I'm putting you on speaker." She positioned the phone in front of Callen. "Go ahead, Leon."

"Agent Callen, I assume Hetty has already filled you in on the case. When you are well enough, the FBI is going to need to get your statement concerning the operation you worked with Sykes. But the reason for this call is to let you all know that our security committee just met. Based on the information supplied by the CIA, Sherman Sykes was in this alone. He used his computer skills to make it look as if your classified information had been leaked; an attempt to set Davis up as the shooter." Callen blinked slowly as he continued to listen. "But apparently the, so called, leak did not make it further than our agency data bases. At this point, your identities remain secure. The committee has, therefore, reinstated you as Senior Agent with the team in Los Angeles. That is, if you still want the job."

Hetty watched as Callen's eyes closed and his lips formed a weak, crooked smile. She moved the phone away from Callen. "Leon?"

"Hetty. Did he hear everything I just said?"

Hetty smiled down at Callen who had already drifted off to a peaceful sleep. "He heard you. And yes, he said he still wants the job."

Hetty put her phone away and then wrapped her fingers around Callen's hand. "It is over." She whispered in Russian. "You're home."


	22. Chapter 22

_Well, __I __finally __finished. __I __have __learned __so __much __from __the __critiques __and __have__been __encouraged __by __all __the __reviews. __It __has __been __so __much __fun __to __have __a __place __where __even __amateurs __can __write.__I __hope __to __have __another __break__ omeday __to __try __this __again __(maybe __a __sequel __or __something __new)__but__ even __if __this __is __it, __it __has __been __an __amazing __experience. __Thank __you __to __all __the __readers. __A __special __thanks __to __Gabi __for __keeping __me __going __at __times __when __I __was __close __to __giving __up._

CHAPTER 22 - Return to the Nest

Hetty called and informed Sam of the committee's decision to reinstate Callen as senior agent. As soon as the FBI took the suspect into custody, the team jumped in the _Challenger_ and raced back across town to the hospital. Hetty was sitting in one of the vinyl chairs in Callen's room, watching him sleep, when the door flew open. She watched as Kensi, Sam and Deeks fell all over each other trying to be the first in the door. Kensi won, of course. "Does he know?" she blurted out.

Hetty put her finger to her lips. "Shhh. Miss Blye, Mr. Hanna, Mr. Deeks. This is a hospital. Please tell me the three of you did not just run through the halls of this building." Sam's gaze skirted around the room, avoiding Hetty's stare. Kensi and Deeks pointed at each other. Hetty puckered her lips in an attempt to suppress a smile. "Yes he knows."

Sam immediately claimed his position, standing at Callen's side, with his hand resting on his partner's shoulder. Deeks and Kensi took a seat on the couch. Sam stood guard, watching Callen sleep, while the others talked quietly. The tension of the past few days had dissolved and now they could focus on getting Callen better. Everyone was eager for him to wake up so he could take part in their celebration.

A while later, Callen moved, ever so slightly and conversation ceased. Hetty, Kensi and Deeks all rose to their feet and came closer to the bedside. All eyes now on Callen, they waited with anticipation and then watched as he shifted his right hip, grimacing from the pain it caused. A few seconds later, his whole body flinched and his breath hitched.

"Sam?" Callen said in a soft, raspy voice, his eyes still closed.

"Yes, G?"

"You know I love you like a brother"… Callen paused to swallow and Sam moved in a little closer. … "but you gotta stop touching me."

Sam grinned and removed his hand that had been resting on his partner's shoulder. Callen was obviously still very weak and experiencing a lot of pain, but his onlookers were relieved to see the return of that old familiar, independent nature (which Sam would have translated as stubbornness.) Callen opened his eyes. Trying to focus, he blinked slowly a few times. Kensi stepped in closer to the bed. "Hey, there you are."

"It's about time," Sam said, trying his best to sound put out.

Callen squinted up at Sam and then scanned the room, making eye contact with each person at his bedside. "What? Am I dying or something? They called in the family?" he asked groggily.

Sam spat. "Fine, grumpy. We'll just leave."

Just then, Monica entered the room. She placed a hypodermic needle on the bedside table and, as usual, Callen's eyes fixed on it. "Sorry, baby," Monica said with sincerity. "It's that time again."

Callen closed his eyes, let out a little sigh, and then turned his head away from her. After a brief pause, he initiated the slow and painful task of turning over onto his left side. Sam instinctively reached and grasped his arm to assist to which Callen mumbled, "You're touching me again."

"OK, hard head. Not touching you." Sam let go, knowing that his partner would not be able to turn over on his own, but glad to see him putting up a fight. Just as suspected, Callen quickly conceded and accepted Sam's help. Even with assistance, turning his tired and sore body caused a few pained expressions and some grunts and groans.

Callen was finally positioned on his left side, facing Sam, and Monica pulled the covers down. Realizing that the patient was more alert than before and that everyone was hovered around, Monica asked, "Would you like me to ask your guests to step out for a minute?"

Still trying to get his breath, Callen responded softly, "You can ask. … But they won't leave."

Monica smiled and then proceeded to open up the back of his hospital gown and lower the waistband of the boxers. When she pulled off the _Band-aid_ that remained from the last injection, Callen flinched.

"Come on G." Sam teased. "She hasn't even done anything yet." Callen turned his head, burying his face in the mattress, preparing himself for what came next.

The nurse swabbed Callen's hip with alcohol. "Hopefully you won't have to receive many more injections. We're running out of places to stick you on this right hip." After a brief pause, "There's going to be a little stick." The needle was popped into his flesh and Callen's breath hitched. They heard a muffled hiss as the medicine began to enter his body.

"I know," Monica said, still slowly depressing the plunger of the syringe. "Burns like crazy, doesn't it? Just take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

"Relax, G.," Sam said, still standing over his partner like a mother hen.

When the syringe was emptied, the nurse stepped away to dispose of the needle. "Whoa!" Kensi exclaimed while looking down at Callen's exposed hip. The others also focused on the bruising that had become even darker and more defined than the day before.

Deeks scrunched up his face. "Ouch!"

"Now you can even see the distinct outline of the barrel," Kensi remarked.

Sam shook his head. "Don't think he'll be carrying his SIG on that side for a while."

"Maybe not ever," Deeks added. "Remind me never to fall on my weapon."

As Monica was preparing to place a _Band-aid_ on the injection site, Callen turned his head to the right, trying to look behind him. "Are you all staring at my butt? Hetty, make them stop."

"Oh, shut up," Sam said casually.

"Hetty. They're looking at my butt. Isn't this like sexual harassment or something?"

Sam snorted, "It might be if there was something sexual about your skinny, white butt."

"Hetty, do you hear what I put up with? I want a new partner."

"Not happening, Agent Callen," she said in an authoritative tone.

After Monica had pulled up the waistband of Callen's underwear, he began to try to maneuver himself onto his back; once again, initially refusing Sam's help and then forced to accept it. With the sedative already taking affect, Sam had to recruit Deeks' help as well.

Monica took Callen's temperature and then placed the blood pressure cuff on his arm. "How is he doing?" Hetty asked.

"Well, he is still running a temp but it is down slightly." Callen was now beginning to feel the "floating" effect of the sedative. Monica continued while removing the cuff from his arm. "Besides the fever, the doctor is concerned that he still is not eating or drinking and his kidneys have not functioned."

Hetty sighed deeply. Her tone was now firm. "Mr. Callen. Do I understand her correctly? You are still refusing to eat or drink? How do you ever expect to regain your strength without proper nourishment?" Callen frowned and looked down like a scolded little boy.

Sam chimed in, "Yeah, G. I thought you hated hospitals. Sounds like you plan to stay here for a while."

Callen lowered his head even further and mumbled, "I've been asleep."

There was a pause. Then suddenly, the team sprang into action. Sam reached down and yanked the blanket back up to Callen's waist. "You're not asleep now." Kensi poured water into a Styrofoam cup and handed it across to Sam. Deeks fumbled with the control buttons on the bedrail. The head of the bed lowered just a bit and then quickly began rising. The sudden shift in position caused Callen to startle and the top of his gown to slide off of his left shoulder. His rate of breathing increased and his eyebrows went up, stunned by having the head of his bed raised without notice and the sudden flurry around him.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty said. "This is a hospital bed, not an amusement park ride."

"Sorry, Callen."

The nurse looked up from her clipboard and smiled with amusement at the burst of energy in the room. Kensi opened up a container of _Jell-O_ that she had been eyeing. Callen looked around. There stood all three team members: one just staring with anticipation, one offering him a cup of water, and one equipped with _Jell-O_ and spoon.

"Come on, G.," Sam said impatiently. "You gotta drink up so you can pee and get out of this place."

Callen hesitantly reached for the cup with his shaky hand, took a small sip, and said softly, "Uh…guys. This is way more nurturing than I'm comfortable with."

Sam shook his head. "That's because you're not comfortable with any nurturing."

Callen's already soft voice was becoming weaker, "Seriously, Hetty. New partner. One who doesn't think he's my mother." They could all detect the fatigue creeping back in as Callen struggled to keep his eyes open.

But Sam continued the banter. "I'm the one who needs a new partner. I can't be out on the streets with someone who gets all squeamish. G, your body is riddled with so many knife wounds and bullet holes that you leak when you drink a glass of water. But you turn into a little girl at the sight of a tiny needle. That's just not rational."

Callen blinked owlishly and his speech began to slur. "Not rational? This coming from a big, tough SEAL who's afraid of clowns?"

"You just had to go there."

"I'm just sayin'." Callen's voice was fading.

"You just wait till you are well enough to get outta here. I'm gonna whip your cocky, little…"

"I'm not afraid of you," Callen mumbled. His eyes were almost closed.

"Oh, I forgot. G. Callen's not afraid of anything. Oh, yeah, except needles."

"And Hetty," Callen whispered as his eyes slid shut and he drifted off to sleep.

This brought a smile to everyone in the room, including Hetty, who was still a little perturbed at Callen for his refusal to eat and drink. But she knew, deep down, that this independent nature was how he had survived all these years. She would just have to wait until he was awake again and take one of her two usual approaches when dealing with her obstinate senior agent: talk him into thinking it was his idea or make some outlandish threat. In any case, Hetty knew that despite his stubborn protests, the team would be right by his side through his recovery.

Sam took the cup from his partner's limp hand and handed it back across to Kensi. Monica checked Callen's IV, picked up her clipboard, and exited the room. Hetty returned to her chair and Kensi and Deeks found their places on the couch.

Sam waited until he was sure Callen was sleeping soundly, and then pulled the gown back up over his shoulder. Sam's massive fingers gently arranged the top of the gown and straightened the covers, as if tending to a small child. Then he took a long cleansing breath, paused, and rested the palm of his hand on his partner's left shoulder. Kensi and Deeks exchanged smiles. They knew that Sam would keep his vigil until Callen's eyes opened again. And then the ex SEAL would step into his tough guy role and the bantering would pick up where it left off.

The room was suddenly quiet except for the low hum of the IV machine and Callen's soft, shallow breathing. It was as if everyone had been swept away in thought. For the first time in days, it felt safe to turn their attention inward and truly reflect on what they had; what was almost lost. Hetty smiled with contentment. At least for now, all her little birds had safely returned to the nest.

_The __End_


End file.
